Sewer Life Ain't So Bad: Sordid Tales Featuring the King of Sewage
by I'm Not Wearing Any Pants
Summary: I wish I could admit that I was kidnapped and chained to the dungeon walls and forced to write this nonsense at gunpoint. But I'd be lying.
1. Here We Go Again

Batman and all related characters are owned by DC Comics and Warner Bros. Animation. This Suethor is a perpetually angry nest of easily triggered narcissistic wasps and someone always coaxes me into throwing a rock at it. Lord save me from my stupidity impulses.

* * *

HERE WE GO AGAIN!  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
This feels as familiar as always, only now it's even more obvious.

PARTIAL REGURGITATION OF THE PLOT OF THE ONLY EPISODE I HAVE EVER WATCHED OUT OF AN 85 EPISODE SERIES, HERE WE GO AGAIN!

Sewage King woke up to no sun shining through his bedroom window, because it was in the sewer, and hopped out of bed with a cheerily insane smile. He proceeded to go to the lavish kitchen he had in the sewer to obtain a hearty breakfast. Obviously he's got a whole fully furnished mansion down there. It's in every story like this. And damn it, we will continue the long held tradition. He threw open the fridge door and looked inside while smiling. He lacked the ability to make varying emotional expressions. After smiling at his prize for an hour, he pulled a turkey leg out of the fridge and closed the door.

His smile dropped upon seeing his pet alligators scuttling across the floor, their long scaly tails wagging happily as they noticed the meat clutched in his pale hands.

"NO, NO, NO, NO! THIS IS MY FOOD! MY FOOD, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he scolded them as they pawed at his bare legs. He was dressed in a pair of boxer shorts with little cartoon alligators on them. On his feet were fuzzy slippers that also were modeled after alligators. "Down, down, down! You must not d-d-d-distress me! I am very emotionally fragile and become easily distressed at the slightest thing, but mostly at any criticism of my massively dysfunctional and socially abhorrent actions or unwarranted self-importance."

One of the alligators dropped dead for no apparent reason.

The Sewer King took a bite of his turkey leg and chewed it, glancing down at the alligator's back leg, still twitching from muscle spasms, a vapid look in his visible eye.

"You were my best friend. I considered you to be my actual family. I raised you from a pup and we were in the circus together when I was a child. You ate all my school bullies and my lawyer, Mr. Kensington. Then you caught that mysterious plot device disease that's always in these stories for convenience, and tragically died." He scowled because he couldn't do anything else and continued to chew his bite of food. Then he crouched and rubbed his precious pet's cute cold nosie before he burst into tears. "I'LL NEVER FORGET YOU, MY FRIEND! MY PRECIOUS DAUGHTER! ALL MY ALLIGATORS ARE EXPLICITLY FEMALE. THEY JUST ARE."

He then got back up, walked over to the wall, pulled a lever, and a trap door opened. The dead alligator's body fell into the pit below where it was devoured by other alligators. And Killer Croc, who Sewie had tamed. Because he's just that good at communicating with large reptiles. Then he pressed a switch and a new alligator slid out of a doggy door which had opened up in the wall.

"I fucking love alligators. They are just like cobras and cats. Only better. They are the pet of the newest fictional boyfriend-chan."

He tore into the turkey leg and laughed.

THE END


	2. MUH BABIES

MUH BABIES  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Let me prove my intricate knowledge of this villain I'm using for my newest interchangeable woobie self-insertion validation masturbation toy by obsessing over how he loves animals and cries over everything, same as every long haired white male character I've fetishized over the past nine years.

MUH BABIES

A plot device femaloid wandered for hours until she tripped over what passed for the plot. It appeared to be a fossilized turd. She got up and dusted off her scraped knees, looking very miserable. She didn't want to be in the story. She realized her only inclusion within it was to be a simple plot device for someone who cannot come up with actual ideas and hates female characters. Thank goodness she's just a simple background character, wholly irrelevant. That doesn't mean she won't get tortured and die but at least there's a huge chance she won't get raped.

"I'm not supposed to talk but I'm going to anyway. Canon is fucked in the ass enough and it doesn't matter what anyone does in these parodies," she said.

She couldn't steal anything decent for her oppressive lord and Daddy dom, the Sewer King, King of All Sewers, Master of Alligators, and of Stinking Really Bad. Also he was a totally sick fuck child abuser who Batman wanted to beat the unholy living shit out of and everyone was rooting for him to do it. He's a super minor character and he sucked so bad he was brought into a comic cameo just to be killed off. Naturally, this is one of the characters OP would rush to select for her new sissy fantasy Daddy. The girl started doing the only thing characters in these stories can ever do...she trembled and cried and told instead of showed in very beige and forgettable tones as the narration directed. Somewhat, because this is the parody version. There's still no effort put into it since there's really no point, and never was. I could write about the Sewer King shitting himself on the toilet for twenty-eight chapters and it would be about the same as the original fics, only slightly more entertaining.

"I hate the Sewer King. He smells like shit. He yells at me for not giving him what he wants when he demands it and only makes the same five facial expressions that I do. He cries for sympathy and validation while whining that everyone else is mean and a troll and sucks at writing fanfiction." She hung her head and sniffled. "But he's got alligators for pets so that also somehow means he's a nice guy and a family man and would probably make a really good psychotically obsessive dad. Except to characters who are actually children. Everyone feel bad for the Sewer King and give OP tons of reviews. Or you're a troll by proxy." She struggled not to faint from fever.

Meanwhile the alligators were romping around smashing into everything with their tails and knocking stuff all over the place, unless I've misinterpreted this peculiar sentence.

OP, why can you not learn how to describe things in a way that doesn't express severe amounts of regressed cognative ability. This is somehow supposed to be better than everyone else in the fandom's. Mmm, mm. When the Dunning–Kruger hits.

Our female plot device background lamp object skipped into the picture, reaching the Sewer King, who was and always will be the main focus of every story, no matter what. She noted the Sewer King looked beaten up.

Even though she wasn't doing anything to draw his attention besides showing up at the correct moment for him to make a shitty ending quip, he turned to her and yelled: "MY BABIES ARE TRYING TO SLEEP, FUCK OFF, YOU USELESS VAGINA!" He threw a half empty cup of Pepsi at her.

It hit her and splashed on her shoulder and then to the ground. She cried and fell to her knees.

"LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO, YOU BITCH!" The Sewer King sobbed and threw a tantrum because his Pepsi was gone.

Feel bad for the Sewer King. Only him. Not the suffering girl.

That's it. That's the story.

THE END


	3. Severe Distress

Severe Distress  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
When somebody doesn't pay enough attention to your incessant whining and tantruming.

SEVERE DISTRESS

The Sewer King woke up one day and realized nobody gave two shits about him, and by proxy, no one gave two shits about the original author who has chosen him to project all her internal self-loathing narcissist ex-boyfriend sissy dom revenge fantasies upon. That meant, much like the sewer system, the Batman fandom was in deep shit, for there would be an endless torrent of creepy textual diarrhea squirting from the buttocks of an infamous Suethor for three to five years until she gets bored and moves onto something else where she can groom new victims easier to write her free underwear sobbing fetish porn of her OCs disguised as canon characters and steal ideas off of.

"I had a brother once. But then I murdered him!" the King exclaimed. This might have been a lie, for he was a pathological liar. "I threw him into a pit full of my alligators when he tried to kidnap my betrothed. Her name was Harleen Quinlan. How I miss her tender boobage and traumatic addiction to abuse which made her easy to manipulate and slap around when I felt like it, until some jackass at DC finally started writing her with a spine. And thus I was separated tragically from my fetish object and property! I mean, my waifu!"

The Sewer King felt distress at being FOREVER ALONE'd so hard and began to shriek and cry. Then he scowled. Then he trembled. Then he frowned. Then he scowled again. Then he cried again. Then he farted, but silently. The alligators grunted and scampered away from the noxious fumes.

He rolled his eyes.

"If a man can't fart in the sewer in peace, he can't fart anywhere in peace!" he yelled. He tilted his head and pondered for an increment of time that we'll have to say is an hour. That's the only time increment that is favored with any regularity. "I hope Batman doesn't show up and beat the shit out of me and make me cry. I don't think he will because the narration in a self-insert masturbation fantasy of this magnitude rarely includes the main character unless the author wants to fuck them. And Batman is much too conventionally attractive and masculine for this Suethor's tastes."

Batman swung down from the ceiling and punched the Sewer King in the face.

"Go to hell, you gruesome child abusing pedophile," he growled in his Batman voice. Then he slapped the batcuffs on him. "And tell them I sent you."

And to no one's surprise nor concern, the Sewer King got booty bashed in jail and then stabbed to death.

THE END


	4. Highly Triggering Content

Highly Triggering Content  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
If you took out the redundancies from these, they'd be two sentences long.

HIGHLY TRIGGERING CONTENT

The Sewer King was on his throne in his great sewer dominion, one hand resting on the arm of his throne, connected to his rugged chin, eyes closed, deep in thought. He pondered.

None of the idiot children under his employ could do anything right. He wondered why he didn't just kill them all. Oh, right. Then he'd have to get up off his lazy ass and steal for himself. It was much easier to groom a bunch of vulnerable poverty stricken orphans to do it for him. Their failure was of no real concern. He enjoyed punishing them. It gave him a nasty little chubby. His cock was malformed and bent, like Chris-Chan's. That didn't matter either. Some fractured female incel out there would love to ride it, having no other chance of scoring with prime genetic material in a normal society. They must turn to the greasy unwashed fringes to which they can relate.

He flew up out of his chair with sudden glee and began to pace around, flapping his hands wildly.

"I'm just going to keep regurgitating thoughts that prove OP can't even begin to create something based off the episode upon which all this was repeatedly ripped, same as everything! No, no, n-n-n-nooooooo! Not at all! Can't be done! CANNOT! No creativity whatsoever. Copy-paste, copy-paste, then steal and claim as your own OC material. No one will notice! Except everyone already has, long ago." He slipped on one of his pet alligator's chew toys and stumbled. "God damn it! My pretties, I told you not to leave your toys lying around in the open! Do you want Daddy to fall and break his neck like D'Void did several years ago? Well, DO you?"

He waved the toy at one of his mighty pets. He threw it. The alligator caught it in its mouth and shook it. It was cute and funny and made the Sewer King laugh. Much like Null Guardians, alligators are cute.

"Oh, I can't say mad at you! You're too cute!" He ran up and hugged his lizard baby and pet its tummy and gave it scratches. "I love you, you big poopy-doopie!"

Somebody sneezed.

Sewer King whipped his head around, the long black hair flying out behind him and slapping him in the face, leaving a visible grease trail, making him gasp for the days of yore in the sex torture dungeons, and he snarled and pointed at the nameless nondescript boy in question.

"YOU!"

The boy quivered. The rest of the children gathered in the area stepped back fearfully.

"YOU, YOU, YOU!" Sewer King advanced threateningly. "NO TALKING! NOT EVER! ONLY I MAY TALK!"

He took two more steps forward and his foot slipped on a squeaky toy shaped like a cute pink kitten. He skidded some distance, arms pinwheeling, and fell down, breaking his neck.

After a long stunned silence, the children huddled together in the shadows began to move closer to inspect the body.

"Holy shit, is he dead?" one asked.

Another returned an observation: "I...I think so."

The children eyed the alligators nervously.

"They're gonna eat us!" someone whimpered.

"Not today."

A chorus of gasps ensued.

Batman's bat-grapple shot out and he bat-swung down toward the collection of alligators. He landed amid them as they snapped and hissed. Then he fought them, one by one, wrangling and roping up the ones he could. He then snapped the jaws of a particularly nasty one who just wouldn't submit to his heroic bat-will.

"Did I look cool doing that, kids?" Batman intoned deeply as he turned around and smiled at them, his cape flowing behind him gracefully.

"Of course you did! You're the goddamn Batman," they cheered.

"Here, have some merchandise." He tossed them all Batman t-shirts from the pouches of his bat-utility belt.

Then he took them all out for pizza.

THE END


	5. Everyone Dies Again

Everyone Dies From That Mysterious Plot Device Flu...Again  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
When you can't think of a realistic way to kill off characters so somebody else can sob hysterically over their bodies, so you just keep on using the same old poorly contrived one nobody wanted to read the last hundred and fifteen times you used it.

EVERYONE DIES FROM THAT MYSTERIOUS PLOT DEVICE FLU...AGAIN

Our scene opens up on the beloved, hottest, and most popular Batman villain of all time, the Sewer King, as he started randomly choking and sneezing for no apparent reason other than the plot deemed it necessary for him to suffer and die tragically. He grabbed a tissue and honked into it.

"If I've caught that Captain Trips shit from those grubby little kids, I'm gonna wire this whole place," said the Sewer King while tears spilled down his palid cheeks. "I'm too pretty to keep dying in stupid ways! Why can't I get written into a slutfic or a harem fic? Where are all my bitches? How come every other villain but me is drowning in pussy? I'm just as abusive and greasy as they are!"

An alligator walked up to him and vomited on his boots.

"MY PRETTIES ARE SICK! AND SO AM I! YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THAT MEANS! IT MEANS WE'RE GOING TO DIE! FEEL SAD, AUDIENCE!"

He pointed at the audience. There was nobody there.

The Sewer King started sobbing upon the realization that he wasn't as beloved by all as he would have liked. For very painfully obvious reasons he simply could not grasp. Hint: he was a fucking awful creature deserving of being shunned and ridiculed. However, his desperately high opinion of himself and narcissistic projection required that his hurt feelz be validated by all. Sometimes through violence, but mostly by whining and manipulating and lying to everyone in the vicinity until he landed a sucker. He would force them to submit to his will and write him creepy pedophile sadism fetish porn of his OCs. Yes, he would.

"I'm going to murder anyone who laughs at me!" he shouted as he stood up.

He was just about to initiate that plan when he passed out.

When he woke up his precious pet alligator was dead, causing him to erupt into hysterical tears of sweet, sweet paraphilic sexual energy. They ran down his face. His eager tongue lapped them up. They tasted like the piss of cherubs, rosy cheeked and nubile.

All the other alligators in the area had also died of INSERT MYSTERIOUS RECURRING DISEASE HERE. Their stinking bloated bodies littered the floor.

"Now I am truly alone," whimpered the Sewer King.

He continued to cry forever. Until he dehydrated and then died. Then he went to hell.

Satan laughed at him and forced him to wear a pair of lacy pink panties. He wet them and he blushed really hard from embarrassment and continued to cry for all eternity while Satan and his court of demons laughed and pointed. Satan wore many pairs of fabulous alligator skin shoes as he teasingly ate chocolate cake on a paper plate in front of the Sewer King.

THE END


	6. Eat Shit and Die

Eat Shit and Die  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Everyone else in every fandom ships child abuse and pedophilia, says the well known child abuser and pedophile, over the course of nine years. Can you say, I say, can you say, hyp..hyp...hyp...hypocrite!

EAT SHIT AND DIE

The King of Sewage sank his rotten yellow teeth into a turkey leg. That's the only food available to fetishize in these stories at the current moment. Can't wait for the chocolate cake and Chinese food to officially show up. Maybe throw in some spicy buffalo hot wings.

Two young femaloids popped up, staring at him with their doe eyes and pouty BJ ready lips.

The Sewer King recoiled in sudden shock of seeing evil vaginas, spewing half masticated turkey from his mouth. His pet gators snapped it up.

"What are you looking at? Did I give you permission to look at me?" he demanded, glaring at the pair of Original Sin originating devils. They stepped back and shook their heads, no. The Sewer King developed a look of insane glee. He waved the turkey leg at them. "Shall I shave your heads? Shave them like the others who stepped out of line?"

Again, they shook their heads rapidly, their eyes spilling tears.

"YOU'RE USELESS BITCHES! YOU CAN STARVE!" He laughed, tossing the leg to one of his pretties.

The girls cried and ran out of the plot.

He glanced at his watch. "Now it's time to pet my pretties!" Sewer King screamed, standing up. His cape flapped behind him dramatically. He ran to the alligators and nuzzled them and pet all their scaly bellies. "Now it's feeding time! I'm going to feed those two girls to you because tormenting children is funny as hell, especially when there's vaginas involved. I HATE WOMEN AND CHILDREN! COMBINING THE TWO ONLY MAKES ME GO FUCKING BALLISTIC!"

He turned around and saw the starving girls has stolen some of the turkey sitting on the table when he was distracted by his own stupidity.

"YOU DIRTY BITCHES!"

He ran at them, screaming, wondering why the rest of the children weren't present like in the episode where he forced them to set the table for his disgusting ass so he could eat first and torment them as he did so, up to and including wasting the food that some of them had likely slaved over for hours to cook. What a truly sympathetic character.

After capturing the screaming girls, he hung them above a boiling cauldron just like in those Peter Pan stories that rarely included Peter Pan.

"TIME TO EAT, MY PRETTIES!" He threw his head back and laughed.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned. He gasped and then squealed like a stuck pig.

There stood Batman, in all his stealthy readiness.

The Sewer King cowered, holding up his hands protectively. "Please, don't mess up my hair! It's all I have as a character! Women don't like me for anything else! Well, except-"

Batman punched him in the dick.

"Except that," The Sewer King squeaked, falling over.

Batman tied him up, and for the first time in his life, the Sewer King realized bondage and domination wasn't as fun when you were the sub.

"Stop writing me into these miserable mischaracterized shitfests," said Batman. "I'm in enough self-insert masturbation fetish fanfic as it is." He shot his grapple and swung back into the shadows.

Somewhere out in Gotham's all absorbing night, the Joker was alone and sad and very horny.

And chances are since OP doesn't actually give two fucks about the Batman franchise or any characters who don't fit her Craig/Isabella/Sasha disguised OC template you aren't ever going to see him in any other parodies aside from this one. That's...a good thing. Trust me.

The End


	7. Hope You Like Ghosts

Hope You Like Ghosts Because Here They Come Again  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Somebody please call the Ghostbusters. This is getting out of hand.

HOPE YOU LIKE GHOSTS BECAUSE HERE THEY COME AGAIN

We open up on our favored antagonist, the Sewer King, sobbing like a man-baby over his dead Null Guardians. Ah, I mean, alligators. Sorry, it's so confusingly similar, I get mixed up. You could interchange anything and the stories wouldn't make a lick of difference. How sad. But always funny.

"My poor babbys," sobbed the Sewer King with many profound tears. "I'll never leave you all alone like my ex left me all those years ago, but I swear I've moved on." He giggled and leaned toward the fourth wall. "Fuck no, I haven't. It couldn't be more obvious." He resumed his crying and hiccuping as he pet the alligator's adorable snout. "Now you go to Heaven and be with our lord and savior, Jesus Christ."

Since the alligator was never baptized, it became a ghost, cursed to wander limbo for all eternity, and never reach true salvation in Heaven. Sewer King saw it and cried harder. He ran to it and attempted to cuddle it as he was accustomed. Since it was a ghost and all, he just ran through it and fell on his face, landing in reeking raw sewage.

"I deserve to be here in the shit because I am shit," he mourned, and laid down in the shit pool, having accepted his fate.

Then he caught Giardia. He violently shit his pants while screaming and sobbing.

"I DESERVE THIS, YES, Y-Y-Y-YES!" he shrieked, blasting out pulpy brown liquid like a broken hydrant.

After a while he started to like it. It hurt so good.

The sheer force of it rocketed him around the room until he hit the wall at terminal velocity, developed a fatal concussion, and died.

THE END


	8. As Usual

As Usual, This Could Have Been A Single Chapter In Length  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
We still haven't learned after all these years, quality vs. quantity is the golden rule.

AS USUAL, THIS COULD HAVE BEEN A SINGLE CHAPTER IN LENGTH

We join our new Daddy, the Sewer King, as he was about to engage in his ongoing mommy fetish. He peered over the weeks old Gotham Daily, glaring at the shadowy face of one of his young victims, Nameless Child 25, who had delivered the paper. He had been standing there next to his throne, not actually sitting down. He threw down the paper and stomped his foot.

"WHERE ARE MY NEW PRETTIES? I WANT MORE PRETTIES! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BRING ME PRETTIES! OR I PUNISH YOU! THAT IS HOW THIS WORKS! ALL THE TIME! MOTHERFUCKERS! ZERO PRETTIES MEANS YOU GET YOUR ASS BEAT WHILE I GET OFF TO IT! I'M A FUCKING SADIST WHO GETS OFF ON TORTURING OTHERS! HAS THIS NOT BEEN MADE APPARENT BY NOW? NO?"

He screamed and pulled out his Whuppin' Stick, spinning it like a badass. But not too badass because this is a parody. It hit him in the face.

"No one saw that," he whispered, adjusting his weird eyepatch sunglasses.

The Nameless Child trembled in fear because he couldn't do anything else that signified fear, for subtle complexities are not known or wanted here. Only the approved redundant beige prose you have all come to know and love.

"BRING ME SOME PRETTIES OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

The boy ran.

The Sewer King fetched the paper out of the puddle of rank sewage and tried reading it again. He gasped and trembled and scowled and frowned.

There was the Sewer King's bare ass sticking out of the bed while he was coupled with another male figure in a scandalous photo that had been released to the local press.

"I AM NOT A GAY! HOMOSEXUALITY IS A SIN!" he shrieked. "THIS PHOTO IS D-D-D-DISTRESSING ME!"

He began hyperventilating and thinking about his OC parents who were just clones of himself with gray hair and black clothing. He snarled, remembering how shitty and awful they were because they never spoiled him rotten with the things he wanted when he demanded them. Sometimes they even tried to force him to eat vegetables. He shivered and cringed. How revoltingly evil.

"That's how I became a psychotic child abuser and criminal! Because my parents never bowed down and kissed my ass every waking moment and tried to force me to get a job once! I HAVE DEVELOPED A COMPLEX!"

He threw himself on his bed and sobbed. It wasn't fair. He was hotter than Kylo Ren. But somehow nowhere near as popular. He didn't even have a designated canon turned insert Sue to get shipped with.

"I hate the name my parents gave me, Wendell Lewis. It makes me sound like a nerd. I'm going to take a new name that signifies my tragic turn to the darkness. The Sewer King! That was a flashback, by the way."

So he went to live in the sewer because it was where he always wanted to live.

He remembered having lots of stuffed toys, same as every character in existence in every one of these stories. Of course it was stuffed alligators this time instead of frogs or cats.

"I loved my stuffed Gary the Gator! He was my only emotional support during all those long years of abuse by my horrible family who didn't give me everything I wanted the second I demanded it and absolutely no other actual reason that would be considered actual abuse. In fact, I was the abusive one this whole time, but I've DARVO'd everything because that's one of the main tactics of systematic abusers such as myself. HA HA HA! Plot twist. Anyway, I really loved alligators. They were my favorite animal. My favorite animal that changes to match whomever I'm fetishizing at the time. Get used to seeing me gush over them every five minutes and probably end up having an explicitly female baby alligator that I'll be forced to mindlessly fawn over every second because, surprise, it's the author's obvious self-insert she thought disguising as an animal would somehow make her better than the other Suethors who come up with human OCs."

He scowled and smiled, scowled and smiled. For hours.

As he was paralyzed by all these intrusive flashbacks that padded out the story by regurgitating fabricated plot points for audience sympathy for twenty hours and five hundred paragraphs, and inevitably ends up displaying the same recurring "parental abuse turned the villain bad, he didn't really do anything wrong, uwu, feel sorry for him when he cries over stupid things that he never did in the canon, but somehow it's canon because some histrionic weeaboo jackass said so" in order to woobify the villain, Batman showed up.

Batman waved his hand in front of the daydreaming moron's face. He was in there deep. Maladaptive daydreaming. Batman noted the Sewer King had a rather unusual erection while he fetishized the imagined suffering and sobbing torment, as most narcissists tend to. Batman scrunched up his tiny bat-nose in disgust.

"I was only six years old when my daddy took away my stuffed alligator. That's why I'm always obsessive about protecting my pet alligators. And it's canon, you meanies. I am the biggest Batman fan in existence despite not having watched a single episode outside of The Underdwellers. Prepare to face my wrath." Sewer King snapped out of his daze.

Batman was gone. The Dark Knight decided to trounce the Sewer King after he'd collected some more evidence. And there was a shit ton around.

"Where's my pretties! Who wants pet-pets?"

Sewer King skipped off to go cuddle his babies.

"I love my pretties! Pretties, pretties, PRETTIES!" He scratched their noses and bellies, just like D'Void always did to his family of Null Guardians in previously copy-pasted stories that are now being reused yet again for these, no correlation. "Ooh, time for another padding flashback where I tell everyone what happened instead of having an exploration of a past scenario where it shows a remotely interesting story someone would ever want to read! Love that redundancy and beige prose, over and over and OVER AND OVER AND..." He bashed his head into the nearest wall.

Young Kingy got yelled at by his old man for not shutting up and mowing the lawn and taking out the trash so he ran away into the sewer. He'd heard the old legends of alligators being down in the sewer. Like the True Christian God, he firmly believed in them with all his heart and soul.

"I hope I run into an alligator down here and can tame it with my power of friendship with alligators that isn't explained in any logical way because it would require some form of cognative effort," he said.

Suddenly there were three fully grown alligators who appeared in front of him.

He was magically able to tame them and they became friends. "Zero is the new way of saying none! Repetitive words and phrases!" He threw some confetti in the air. The alligators snapped at it. "By the way, alligators are just like cats. Everything is like a cat if you don't understand how any other animals work."

The alligators became cute and friendly and started licking his palms and rubbing against his legs while purring and wagging their tails.

"MY PRETTIES!" Wendy declared. "I also declare myself the King of the Sewer and the King of the Alligators. Cats, cobras, and tarantulas can fuck off. They're not in style anymore."

He began to kiss all the alligators on their faces.

Later on, he came out of the sewer, stinking and dirty. People saw him and made fun of him. An old man threw a trash can at him, completely unprovoked. Everyone else involved is written to be unreasonably bizarre and aggressive to the author's favorite woobie for additional sympathy points. The realism astounds.

"WHY DOES EVERYONE HATE ME? I DON'T DESERVE IT!"

"You smell like shit, kid," offered a nearby garbage man. "If I can smell it after all these year of desensitization to smells, you must be really rancid!"

Wendell smelled himself. He couldn't pick up anything wrong with his sweet wet ass bacteria stench. He had become so accustomed to it. Distressed, he burst into tears again and ran back to his alligators.

And here's a magnificent line: The alligators wiped away his tears with their tails.

Once again, we've gone full storybook loss of believability. Unsurprisingly. B-b-b-ut it's soooo in character! Like Null Guardians in baby cribs, sobbing exactly like human babies. Speaking of which, where the fuck are they. C'mon. I want to laugh with real enthusiasm again. More infernal screaming Mary Sue babies. You know you wanna. There's nobody else to ship with Kingy.

Sewer King hugged his new family. "You'll never be mean to me, my precious pretties. And if you ever are, I'll make purses out of you."

Sewer King snapped out of his intrusive flashback when he heard the children coming toward him.

"You better have brought me pretties or so help me," he growled at them.

The children approached with caution. One took out a coin purse she'd swiped from a little old lady. The lady had nearly beaten her ass bloody. Man, these kids were not the skilled pickpockets from the show. For the sake of the plot, as usual. Gee, for somebody who always bitches about everyone else in the fandom not giving two shits about the canon, OP sure loathes adhering to it in any way shape or form. BUT YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO NOTICE! So go back to ignore it, even though it's terribly overt, as always.

Sewer King's face turned red with hate. He slapped the coin purse out of the girl's hand. "NOT PRETTY ENOUGH FOR ME!" He shook like a leaf in a storm, fists clenched. "WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU LITTLE PRICKS DO ANYTHING RIGHT? YOU'RE MAKING ME LOOK BAD!"

And so he was highly distressed once again.

"D-D-D-D-ISTRESSING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" he shrieked. He jumped around and stomped his feet and waved his hands, terrifying the kids. "I DEMAND MORE PRETTIES! I WILL NOT BE SATISFIED WITHOUT MORE PRETTIES! I DON'T WANT TO GO OUT AND DO SHIT MYSELF. IT'S EASIER TO FORCE OTHERS TO DO IT FOR ME! YOU WILL GIVE ME WHATEVER I WANT WHEN I DEMAND IT, OR I'LL PUNISH THE SHIT OUT OF YOU!"

He waved them off. They scattered and fled.

He returned to his throne and sat in it, sighing deeply, wondering why the flashbacks about his youth couldn't have focused on something remotely interesting, say like how he trained to use that staff of his or how he must have had a reasonable childhood for a while, being so engaged in the theatrics and whatall, he had to have gone to school somewhere to further study it. He could have been bullied for being an obvious drama nerd kid, but we just skipped right on past that and went straight to the same dumbass bare bones tragic backstory OP gives every character regardless of anything.

And for some reason we've got to point out the character's clothes again.

"I WAS NEVER LOVED. I'M GOING TO TAKE IN ALL THESE ORPHANS AND TREMBLE FOR HOURS AGAIN," the Sewer King yelled as he flashed back some more. "I'LL PROTECT MY CHILDREN FROM ANY HARM. Except when it's me harming you. And I'll force you to give me everything my parents denied me and shut you up to prevent you from challenging me with your despicable words of criticism and regret."

"This is a load of barnacles," one boy whispered to another.

"SILENCE!" The Sewer King screamed. "YOU DIDN'T BRING ME ENOUGH PRETTIES! HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES HAVE I SAID PRETTIES? ANYWAY, NOW YOU GET PUNISHED!"

He slammed his fist down on a button on the arm of his throne. The rape and torture dungeon appeared. The children screamed. They grasped each other, pleading for mercy.

"Oh, whoops!" He chuckled and pressed the button again. The rape and torture dungeon went back into the wall and a door opened up, displaying a room with a maddeningly bright fluorescent light in it. "There we go. Now you go into the light!"

He threw the bad boys into the light to make examples of them.

More footsteps forced him out of his ongoing flashback. "Ooh, time to scratch my babies' bellies again! Scritchy-scritchy!" He wiggled his fingers in anticipation.

Suddenly his mother was in the sewer with him. What.

"Oh, hello, son. I just happened to be wandering aimlessly around in these sewer tunnels and also just so happened to walk right into your secret lair. What an incredibly contrived coincidence. Goodness! What are all those alligators doing in here?"

"Okay, yes, that's a little too convenient, even for me. How'd you get in here, Mommy?"

"I have no idea."

"That makes sense."

A boy ran past and threw some gold sovereigns down. "Bitch! I'm going back to Neverland. This universe sucks!"

"Oh, hey, you wanted the origin story of my staff and how I learned to use it? Well, fuck you! Fuck you right in the ass without lube!" He walked over and saw a random staff just lying right there on the fucking ground and picked it up and yes, that's the origin of the Sewer King's weapon. "I automatically know how to use this now, no explanation necessary or available." He spun it around and struck the ground with it, producing a loud and hollow disciplinary knock. "See this? This is my ass punishment stick. If you piss me off, you get a BIG WHUPPIN'! Pants down so I can see the reddened booty. I'm all about that booty. I love seeing it destroyed!"

"I'm still here for the sake of the plot as an incredibly shitty device who spews exposition and does whatever the author wants. Like all female characters in these stories, you can interchange me with a lamp." She turned into a lamp.

"I'm going to wail on about how mistreated I was until everyone in this fandom worships me," said the Sewer King.

The lamp sat there.

"IT'S NOT A PHASE, MOM! I'M THE SEWER KING!"

The lamp came attached with a sticky note that read: "Use your indoor voice." Ha ha, running joke with every character the Suethor projects on. Get it? They're all obnoxiously loud absusive assoles who demand to be coddled at all times and act like giant whiny babies even though they're 35-40 plus years old. Wonder why.

The lamp remained silent and ineffectual.

"Yes, I do look like a pirate. I'm not Captain Hook, so get over it." He threw his cape over his shoulder, turning his back to the lamp.

The lamp fell over.

"MY FATHER DIED? OH WOW, THAT'S A SHOCK!" The Sewer King huffed and crossed his arms, still holding his staff in the left fist. He slowly spun it between his fingers. "How many times per fandom do we have to have the same tragic daddy died backstory? Because it's been a lot. Damn, I can't believe this was stretched into six unnecessary chapters."

The lamp's cap popped off and it gushed out its contents. It was a lava lamp.

The Sewer King gasped. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A B-B-B-B-BRAT!" His face turned purple as he spat the word.

YOU SAID THE SECRET WORD!

Confetti shot out of cannons and balloons fell down and a sign came down from the celiging that said "SPOILED BRAT IS THE MAGIC WORD!" and everyone started dancing, even Batman, who was doing the Batusi because why the fuck not.

"That's the worst slur in existence," said the Sewer King, crying again. "No one calls me a spoiled brat and lives!"

The kids stopped dancing and turned to Batman. One grabbed his cape and tugged it.

"Mr. Batman, the Sewer King beat us with his stick and he laughed. And he had a boner when he did it too."

Batman gritted his teeth. "Yes, I know. I have been waiting for this moment."

"Oh shit!" the Sewer King cried louder and tried to run.

Batman caught him, then broke every bone in his body. But somehow he was able to live like in the Arkham games when you curb stomp a mook and they just have the unconscious status. The Sewer King cried for all eternity in jail next to his new daddy, Bubba.

The children cheered. Batman said he'd take them all out for...oh, snap, here it is already!

CHOCOLATE CAKE!

More confetti and ribbons fell down and everyone pulled out those party favor horns and blew them because that was the second magic word.

"Now all we need is someone to mention underwear," said the boy that talked before who wasn't Frog.

The confetti buried them all.

"This story was stupid as hell," said Frog, popping up out of the confetti.

"I know," said Batman as he dug his way out. "Try not to think about it."

THE END


	9. Sympathy Plot Device Cont

Sympathy Plot Device Cont.  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Baby die, Daddy cry. Repeat verse, same as the first.

SYMPATHY PLOT DEVICE CONT.

The Sewer King scowled and obsessed over a dying alligator, who was dying of some mysterious unknown disease that always shows up in these terrible fics.

"I can't protect you, woe is me, DADDY SAD!" he yowled, flapping his hands in the air. "Too bad I'm not a veterinarian."

He trembled with INSERT EMOTION HERE and went into a miles long exposition thought process flashback that this parody has turned into spoken dialogue.

"I did everything I could for you, which was mostly nothing. I'm a lazy fuck. Oh, and also my mother got sick and died years ago for the sake of woobifying me further and making me cry, so we're relating that back to my poor alligator pet, as usual. And now we flash back to my tragic childhood."

The story flashed back to Sewer King's tragic childhood which was so very sad, everyone needs to cry buckets right now. Stop laughing! Child abusers need love too!

Wendell Lewis, the boy who would be King, sobbed hysterically at the bed of his dying mother, suffering over there in the corner. Oh wait, no, he wouldn't go near her and refused to look at her. Um, okay.

"I WANT MORE TOYS!" he wailed. "WHY CAN'T YOU GET UP AND BUY ME MORE TOYS!"

"Please Jesus, take me away from this hell," moaned his mother. She sobbed. Then she died.

The Sewer King came back to the present and hugged the alligator and cried over its body and remembered how he loved it much more than his mother and then he slit his wrists over the dead alligator, his One True Love.

THE END


	10. Secret Word Of The Day

The Secret Word Of The Day Is...  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Aww, yeah, here we go! We made it! It's happening! IT'S HAPPENING!

THE SECRET WORD OF THE DAY IS...

The Sewer King scowled and scowled and scowled some more, watching his stupid children fail at every opportunity to bring him stolen goods for the sake of the plot.

"I WANT MY FUCKING PRETTIES! YOU PIECES OF SHIT CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT EVEN THOUGH YOU'VE BEEN HIGHLY TRAINED! THAT'S RIGHT, YOU STAND THERE AND LOOK SHEEPISH! I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE LOOK HUMILIATED AND AFRAID IN FRONT OF ME! NOW SUCK MY COCK! Oh no, wait, wait, HOLD UP! Sorry, force of habit." He shrugged.

The children cowered. Some vomited and cried harder.

"Now it's time for turkey," said the Sewer King as he moved over to the table. It was empty. They didn't get any food. "OH NO, ZERO, ZERO, ZERO FOODS! Z-Z-ZERO! Y-Y-Y-YOU ARE DISTRESSING ME!"

Some alligators showed up and soothed his distress.

"Yes, my pretties are hungry as well. "I'm going to feed these naughty children to them! IF YOU DON'T GET BACK OUT THERE AND GET ME MORE PRETTIES!"

He scowled so hard, it sent a wave of pure evil stupidity at them, knocking them down. They all got up and ran to the surface world to try and steal valuables for their king.

An alligator jumped onto the table and began eating the turkey. The table was crushed beneath its weight.

"SCOWL!" shrieked the Sewer King. "SCOWL, SCOWL! NO, KITTY, THAT'S MY POT PIE!"

He ran over and grabbed the turkey but the alligator did a death roll and flung him across the room. It hissed and snapped its jaws at him, ripping his pants and exposing his undies. He gasped and blushed. A few seconds later, all the kids came back so they could giggle at him for having his underwear exposed. Right. This isn't creepy as all shit and highly suspect in addition to being amazingly OOC on top of it. Nope.

OBVIOUS UNDERWEAR FETISH IS OBVIOUS AND AN EXTREMELY RECURRING TRAIT!

Balloons and confetti fell everywhere and a giant swing band with dancers and acrobats came out and celebrated the return of the boxer shorts obsession that is the single most defining and hilariously disturbing trait of this Suethor.

Also I can't even begin to read this sentence properly because it's so awkward. So for the sake of humor, I'm going to write that the Sewer King tried to hide the hole in his pants by picking up some baby alligators and holding them over his ass.

"THIS ISN'T FUNNY! THIS IS STUPID!" he screamed. "FADE OUT ALREADY! FADE OUT, I SAW! D-D-D-DISTRESSSSSSSSSSS! DISTRESSSSSSSSSSS!" He began to sob. In his underwear.

THE END


	11. New Obvious Canon Sue

Testing Out The New Obvious Canon Sue  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
That is dangerous territory, my friend. Everyone knows you can only ship Harls with the Joker or Ivy, or you risk being flayed alive. Lucky for you, no one will notice.

TESTING OUT THE NEW OBVIOUS CANON SUE

"Holy shit, that's the worst characterization of myself I ever saw to this day," Harley Quinn noted in the voice of Arleen Sorkin, the one and only true Harley, as she read the original script of the fic, chomping on some Bubblicious, and skipping down the street. Laughing at the absurdity, she crumpled it up and threw it over her shoulder. "Well, since I ain't got nothin' better to do, let's get this hot mess over with."

She located a manhole, and with some effort, opened it up.

"Down into the shitter I go!" She held her nose comically and jumped in.

Down in the dank, dark Harley wandered aimlessly for what seemed like hours.

"Gosh, I shoulda maybe brought a flashlight. This place is darker than all those Ninja Turtle cartoons made it look." She rubbed the walls with her hands, trying to guide herself along. She squealed as she stepped over some squirming rats. "I hope I don't get eaten by another emotional vampire clown who's popular with the creepy rabid shipping fangirls who love woobifying sadistic serial killers. Or maybe Waylon. He hangs out here sometimes. I don't wanna meet him on a bad day. Or y'know, during lunch."

She stumbled into the current repetitive plot and found the Sewer King's lair.

"Oh, hey! Did you get lost down here too?" she inquired cheerfully, waving at the bizarre man and his group of hissing alligators.

"T-t-t-tress-passer!" roared the Sewer King. "Who the hell was supposed to be on lookout?" He slammed his foot repeatedly into the ground. The sound echoed. "WHEN I FIND OUT, YOU WILL BE SEVERELY PUNISHED! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

"Sheesh, Patchy. Who put a bee in your bonnet?" Harley mumbled. She turned back to the man and put on a saccharine smile. "Hiya! I'm Harley Quinn. You may recognize me from Gotham's Most Wanted. Me and Mistah J had a really contrived falling out, so I'm workin' solo until we inevitably fall back in a happily one-sided codependent love." She mimicked a curtsy. "Pleased to meetcha." She blew a large bubble and popped it.

The Sewer King could only scowl and roll his eyes repeatedly. Harley was mildly concerned at this behavior.

"Hey, are you all right? You look like you're havin' a stroke or somethin'."

"No, it's my terrible writing," the Sewer King said, smacking himself upside the head. "Sometimes this fixes it." He paused for a beat. "Yes, I think that did it. Now...where was I?"

Harley chewed her gum more loudly. "You were yellin' at me and whoever kids allowed me to just waltz right in here without sounding the alarm."

"Oh, right." He raised his hand and pointed at her. "TRESPASSER!"

Harley suddenly felt compelled to scream out "PUDDIN'!" at the Sewer King. She clasped her hands over her mouth. "Huh? What? What's goin' on? I never call anybody else but the Joker my PUDDIN'! BLASPHEMY!"

"Ha, see! It's happening to you as well," the Sewer King said. "You can't resist the idiotic compulsions of bad characterization forced onto you by a crazed Suethor. No one can! We are helpless puppets."

"Well that's some bullshit!" Again, Harley gasped, struck by the sudden uncontrollable urge to act violently out of character. She let out a girlish squeal and ran to the Sewer King, snatching off his glasses and putting them on. "I wear my sunglasses at night too!" She snorted with laughter. "Seriously though, how do you see with these things down here. It's already so dark. I wouldn't be able to tell up front down." She waved she hands out in front of her before accidentally, air quotes implied, grabbing the Sewer King's crotch. "Whoopsie!"

He backed up, blushing furiously. "Give me those back!" He scowled and scowled and scowled some more.

"Geez, don't blow a gasket. They prescription or somethin'?" She stared at him. "Say, Patchy, how come you can only make like two facial expressions?"

"My name is the SEWER KING! And never mind my inability to properly express emotions!" He grabbed his glasses and put them back on. "You have distressed me! Therefore you get eaten by my pretty pets now, you lunatic FEMALE."

"Aww, I love exotic animals too!" She ran up and cuddled them. "Oh, sorry. Forgot my line." She took a deep breath. "MY NEW BABIES! THEY'RE SO CUTE! Not as cute as Bud and Lou, but whatever. Gotta make do when you're in a story this screwy."

She walked around and stared at the Sewer King's throne. She rubbed her hand across one of the arms and then also rubbed her butt against it.

"Ooh, plush. I like it." She sat in it and kicked out her legs, placing her arms behind her head. "Y'know, at first I wasn't too hot about movin' into the sewer, but you really made this place cozy and inviting. I think I'm gonna like it down here."

The Sewer King winced. "No, no! I'm not good with sharing personal space. I'm not good with being around females! Especially not ones as crazy as me!" He ran to her and tried to yank her out of the chair. "You must leave at once! Leave now, now, now! NOW!"

"Come on, don't get so bent outta shape! Livin' with a woman has its perks. I can cook. I can clean. And if you need a ride, I can provide." She winked suggestively. "PUDDIN'!" Harley grabbed the Sewer King and started making out with him.

"MMMPHP!" The Sewer King struggled with the Suethor's newest and most obvious self-insert for which to vicariously ship herself with the Sewer King but not have to debase herself by creating an OC...so she can say she's so much better than every other Suethor in the fandom who went through the creative process to design their own OCs to ship with the canons. How's the atmosphere upon that high horse. "MMMMMMMPH!" His screams were again muffled by her breasts as she squeezed his face into them.

"I LOVE MY NEW PUDDIN'! THIS IS A GOOD STORY THAT'S BETTER THAN EVERY OTHER SUETHOR'S IN THIS FANDOM! SUCK IT, HATERS!"

The Sewer King pried himself free of Harley's grasp and ran for his life. He went above ground again. He threw off his cape. "Maybe regular life isn't so bad."

"Ooooh Puddin'...where'd ya go? Let's go shopping. I wanna pick out curtains," Harley's voice called from the distance.

The Sewer King burst into heavy sobs and ran down the street until Batman appeared around the corner and punched him in the face.

Harley's head stuck out of the manhole. "Oh, hey, Bats! How ya doin'! Is Mistah J still mad at me?"

Batman grabbed the Sewer King in one hand and revealed the Joker in his other hand, grabbed firmly by the back of his jacket.

"Harley, baby! So good to see you again! I've missed you!" Joker opened his arms wide. "Come give Daddy a hug. All is forgiven."

Harley squealed and ran into Joker's arms. "A terrible story, but at least it had a happy ending!"

"I couldn't agree more, right, Bats?" Joker grinned at him.

"You're all going to Arkham for a long time," said Batman.

"Yay!" the villains cheered.

Batman threw them into the Batmobile.

"Can we get McDonalds on the way, Batsy?" Joker asked. "Please?" He fluttered his eyelashes.

"McDonalds, McDonalds!" Harley and Sewer King chorused.

Batman grimace, slammed his foot down on the on the accelerator, and drove off.

"We'll see," he grunted.

THE END


	12. 700 New Stories About Dying

700 New Stories About Alligators Dying  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
I can't wait until we reach the critical point of there being a painfully obvious author's Mary Sue self-insert baby alligator that Sewie obsesses over and becomes the psychotic devoted daddy of and pampers with ridiculous amounts of special treatment while it cries exactly like a human infant.

700 NEW STORIES ABOUT ALLIGATORS DYING

We join the Sewer King pulling a D'Void with his poor pet alligator who had come down with that mysterious plot contrived disease once again, like in all those previous stories about the same thing.

"Oh, no! My poor alligator is dying and I can't do anything but cry!" He burst into hysterical sobbing. "Sexy crying. Mmm." He rubbed his crotch. "Strong emotional release is so feminine and therefore degrading. It turns me on so bad." Then he scowled again. So hard the muscles in his face grew rigid. He rubbed them. "Ow. I think I broke my scowling muscles."

He got up and skipped off to check his ugly human children, obsessively wondering how much loot they swiped for him even as they slowly weakened from starvation and living in cruel neglectful conditions.

"Bye, seeya." He waved to the dying alligator, his focus fixed on material gain like all greedy self-obsessed freaks.

He wandered aimlessly down the hallway until he came upon a vomiting child. He recoiled.

"Ew! The disease seems to be spreading rather quickly," he said. He rubbed his chin. "Hope it doesn't affect me for the sake of the plot." He shrugged. "ZERO, ZERO, ZERO!" He waved his arms and strode away again.

The girl continued to vomit everywhere and cry and shake uncontrollably before she eventually passed out.

After two minutes, Sewer King came back from his useless filler wandering around for no reason and saw his dead alligator and started crying.

And that's it. That's the whole story.

THE END


	13. Recurrent Animal Fixation

Recurrent Animal Fixation

By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants

Kitties and cobras and alligators, oh my.

RECURRENT ANIMAL FIXATION

Baby Sewage King had a very sad childhood which caused him to turn to the dark side. It wasn't because he was a massive vile dick or anything. No villain in the history of mankind has ever been responsible for their own actions. Not as long as there are histrionic shipping fangirls running about, eager to give them excessively tragic backstories that absolve such legions of creepy abusive murderous white men of all wrongdoing.

He was sitting there, minding his own business, playing with a cute stuffed alligator, when his dad walked by and slapped it out of his hands. He began to shriek and cry.

"Little bitch. You're too expensive, what with all your excessive wanting for material objects and fast food. Do you think I'm made of money?" his drunkard of a father slurred, wobbling unsteadily with the beer can in his other hand. "I needs my beer." He took a swig. "Welp, now I'm going to walk out of this family and get hit by a car. Bye, losers." And then he was gone.

Baby Sewie continued to shriek and sob so loud the sound barrier shattered and all the windows in the mansion blew out. His mommy sat there and urged him to use his INDOOR VOICE. But as we all know, he doesn't have one, so.

Warpity, warp, the flashback ended. The Sewer King, now a grown man of 35 or so, maybe older...time hasn't treated his face very well...sat upon his throne in the sewer, overlooking his dark and stinking kingdom. And of course every waking moment will be padded out with him being coo-coo lovey cuddle-wuddle with his pet alligators, same as D'Void with the Null Guardians and Captain Hook with Cecilia and the short lived Thong Guy from Spider-Woman and lord knows what else from back in the day. It's all the same with the names swapped out. Nothing ever changes but the names. Pretend not to notice as this Suethor screeches about how nobody else in the fandom has any creativity.

"I'LL ALWAYS PROTECT MY PRECIOUS PETS!" he screamed, having literally nothing else to do in any story. And he never would. He leaned back and sighed.

A child appeared and handed him a newspaper clipping that showed Batman standing there, apparently posing for a photo.

"Oh no, the Batman! I hope he doesn't show up and punch my teeth out for beating and abusing all these dozens of innocent impoverished children whom I have collected and manipulated for my own greedy personal gain throughout the years," said the Sewer King.

And just like that, Batman appeared.

"Aw, damn it!" the Sewer King yelled, throwing up his hands.

The boy vanished into the aether, his only purpose in the plot fulfilled.

Batman began to bark like a dog and run around in circles. There can't possibly be any proper characterization of Batman in these godforsaken stories so who cares what I write him doing. He removed some Anti-Suethor Dumbass Characterization Bat-Toxin from his belt and popped the antidote into his mouth, quickly regaining his senses.

"All right, Sewer King. It's over," Batman growed in a Chris Baleful Kevin Conroy voice.

"I AM DISTRESSED!" the Sewer King began to sob and shriek.

Batman cracked his knuckles. He began to advance upon the enemy. "You don't even know the meaning of the word compared to what I'm going to show you right now."

The Sewer King scrambled away, sucking in fearful breaths, arms held out in front of him. "No, wait! We need more incredibly stupid beige filler dialogue to distract you so I can escape!"

He snapped his fingers. A bunch of alligators came out and attacked.

"KILL HIM, MY PRETTIES!" the Sewer King screamed and ran away as the bloodthirsty alligators swarmed after Batman.

Batman wrestled the group and punched the shit out of them easily. Because he's Batman. When he got done tossing the last defeated gator aside, he jogged in the direction the Sewer Idiot had gone.

"How many times is OP going to rewrite the only events of the episode they care about in the slightest over and over, and poorly, at that," said Batman, gliding through the darkness.

We all know the answer to that is INFINITY.

Sewer King flew into a panic attack and began to shriek and wail and tremble and sob and choke and cough as he ran daintily through the nooks and crannies of his sewer home, trying to escape justified jail time and inevitable ass punishment.

"I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT MY GREEDY NEED FOR MATERIAL POSSESSIONS EVEN AT A TIME LIKE THIS! PRIORITIES!"

He slowed down when he saw one of his big scaly babies. It had a cartoon bandage on its head where mean old Batman had punched it really hard. He reached down and rubbed its nose and gave it a kissy, then he hugged it.

"I wuv you, my pretty pretty baby! Yes I do! Yes I do!" He scratched under its chin. And then he burst into tears. "We're so misunderstood and tragic!"

Batman popped out of the darkness because being stealthy and scaring the shit out of villains is kind of his thing, which most Batman fans would know from experience, except this one, for some reason, cue knowing snort.

"You're through, Lewis," he snarled into the Sewer King's even more pale face as he gripped him by the collar and shook him. "I'm super fucking tempted to break every bone in your body and or maybe just toss you right onto the subway tracks and claim you fell on your own because damn sure nobody would find out if I did it...I'm the fucking Batman. I know how to cover up evidence. But since I'm the fucking Batman and I have those stupid no kill rules, unlike in the original Batman comics where I used guns and straight up killed people without any problem, or the Tim Burton films, where I totally murdered some villains onscreen, I'm going to have to turn you over to the police. And you'll probably get out quickly and keep abusing children. But maybe not since you were only in one episode, thank God."

Batman slammed him into the wall.

Sewer King cried and cried.

Nobody gave a fuck about the abused children being rescued or anything other than the Sewer King being a poor sad baby and petting his pretty alligators 24/7 and reflecting on how bad his childhood was and how mean his parents and society were to him. That's the ongoing theme in every story. Have fun reading it 600 times as it continuously floods the section for five years. You poor souls.

THE END


	14. Daddy Issues

Daddy Issues  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
You can tell when someone has them. They are extremely overt.

DADDY ISSUES

"CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD, INCESSANT REPETITION OF WORDS AND PHRASES IS A COMMON SIGN OF ASPERGERS," shouted the Sewer King as he paced in front of his legion of poorly trained pickpockets who couldn't steal unlike how they could with ease in the actual show's canon. And Frog, the main one, was nowhere to be found, lost to the void of author interest irrelevancy. "I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS TO BE LOUD IN THIS HOUSE!"

A girl, struck by gnawing hunger for weeks, wobbled and fell to her knees with a soft thump.

"WHAT DID I JUST TELL YOU? CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD, YOU BITCH!"

The girl burst into tears. The Sewer King ran over and licked them off her face.

"Delicious, yes, yes, yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees! YES! I WILL ENJOY YOUR SUFFERING!"

He paused, shuddering as if he'd been struck by lightning.

"Oh no, an intrusive flashback! DON'T YOU LITTLE SHITS TRY TO RUN AWAY WHILE I'M STUCK HERE ZONING OUT FOR AN HOUR AS THE AUTHOR FETISHIZES SOME TRAGIC BACKSTORY WITH ME CRYING AND BEING ABUSED BY MY PARENTS FOR THE SAKE OF DECLARING THAT I'M A SAD MISUNDERSTOOD FIGURE WHO DESERVES ASSPATS FOR CRYING WHEN MY FEE-FEES ARE HURTED OR MY PETS OR EX-GIRLFRIENDS DIE REPEATEDLY IN STUPID WAYS! I SWEAR TO GOD!"

Drool began to leak from one corner of his mouth as what little remained of his mind vanished into the daydream world again. The children immediately left the area and desperately raided the kitchen for scraps of nourishment.

"CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD," yelled the Sewer King's father, whom the OP couldn't bother to give a name because he doesn't matter to the story outside of being a plot device intended to promote sympathy for the Sewer King, as with everything. "Wendell, you little brat. I told you not to keep asking me to buy you all this shit. It's a damn waste anyway. It goes into the closet a week later after you get bored because nobody's giving you attention for playing with it." He opened up the closet door and all the old Secret Saturdays and Ben 10 merchandise fell out of it.

"I'm sick of being abused by not being the center of attention every moment of my life!" Wendell screamed. "Mom, make dad stop abusing me!"

"Wendell, lower your voice," she urged, shaking from the daily stress. Her hair was falling out and it had begun to grey along the temples.

"OH, NOW YOU'RE GOING TO START ON ME? THIS IS WHY I CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS! THAT'S IT! I'M LEAVING THIS SHITHOLE!"

Wendell burst into shrieking sobs.

He ran away forever to go live in the sewer, where he'd manipulate children into serving him as he pleased and giving him anything he wanted, unlike normal society, wherein he'd be expected to get a job if he wanted so much useless crap every five minutes, and everyone obeyed his whims unquestioningly, again unlike normal society, where everyone just told him to shut the fuck up to his face and laughed in it.

That's all his OC parents were designed for. To be props to say he had an abusive childhood that turned him evil. He loves his pet alligators that die all the time and he cries over their bodies. Be sad and sympathize, audience.

Are you seeing the pattern yet? How's about 800 more times.

"I'M ONLY BAD BECAUSE MY DADDY WAS MEAN TO ME!" the Sewer King insisted. His voice echoed throughout the sewer system. "I'M GOOD BECAUSE I LOVE MY PETS! MY PRETTIES! MY PRECIOUS! MY FAMILY! MY DAUGHTERS! MY PRINCESSES! MY LITTLE GIRLS! Okay this is getting creepy even for me. Let's stop right there."

He ran through the tunnels, sobbing, until he collapsed on his hands and knees.

"I'm not bad. It's a lie. I'm a good daddy. I don't have daddy issues."

He sobbed hysterically in his underwear while sucking his thumb and got a hard on from imagining being whipped and called a slutty little sissy bitch as he blushed.

"You can't have daddy issues if you BECOME THE DADDY!" he cried, ignoring the fact that he was also the little girl and the sub at the same time.

When you're forced to be both sides of your obsessive ddlg/sissydom fetish because you can't find a willing participant to form the other half of the relationship.

The End


	15. STFU

Shut The Fuck Up  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Nobody even wants you here.

SHUT THE FUCK UP

One of Sewer King's child slaves stumbled into the sewer, soaked to the bone and tearful, unable to steal loot for her greedy insufferable master who, like all narcissistic sadistic psychos out there, would never be satisfied and would keep demanding more and more until he worked her to death. Both with physical and emotional labor.

"CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD!"

His cruel voice echoed in the back of her mind at all times. Because he never shut the fuck up and kept on screaming the same shit over and over. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. That described the Sewer King pretty well, as well as the person who wrote the original fic this parody was based on.

She tripped over a dead, bloated alligator. A scream remained locked inside her throat. She knew he would be in an even darker mood than usual because one of his poor babies died. She made as little noise as possible, and tugged on his cape as he stood with his back to her. He looked over his shoulder, down at her, and glared and scowled the scowliest scowl of all time.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" he screamed in her face upon turning.

She started to cry.

"YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO MAKE NOISE. I HATE IT! I HATE NOT GETTING MY WAY! I HATE IT WHEN I CAN'T CONTROL PEOPLE AROUND ME! I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE DON'T GIVE ME CONSTANT VALIDATION OF MY INSANE DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR! I HATE NOT BEING THE BEST AT EVERYTHING EVEN THOUGH I'M BY FAR THE WORST AND MY NARCISSISTIC SELF-LOATHING FORCES ME TO DISGUISE THIS FACT BY SHOUTING THAT EVERYONE ELSE AROUND ME IS BAD BECAUSE I AM BITTERLY JEALOUS! IT'S D-D-D-D-DISTRESSING MEEEEE!"

The Sewer King started sobbing and screaming and throwing things and breaking stuff. The girl cowered into a corner with the other children, all huddled together. They watched fearfully as the Sewer King stripped out of his clothes until he was in his LIGHT BLUE BOXER SHORTS. Then he continued to sob and scream and roll around on the floor.

What a fine character. It's a damn shame he isn't more popular. He should be the most popular Batman villain of all time.

The Batman fandom is so elitist. They just can't stand in character canon characters because all they do is write OOC Mary Sues with loads of pedophilia.

Right.

Hahahahaha.

"I AM THE BEST! I AM THE GREATEST! I AM THE NEW DADDY! WORSHIP ME! WORSHIP MEEEEEEE!" screamed the Sewer King. "Give me a Mary Sue to fuck, please. I'm bored and horny and constantly surrounded by children. This sucks! And not in a good way."

A flood of shit water washed through the sewer and drowned him. Batman rescued the kids before they fell victim to it and took them to the nearest Wayne funded orphanage.

THE END


	16. More Stuffed Animal Fixation

More Stuffed Animal Fixation  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Recurring traits, cha-cha-cha. Can you spot them yet? It's getting pretty ridiculous.

MORE STUFFED ANIMAL FIXATION

Wendell "Sewer King" Lewis screamed and pointed at a stuffed alligator sitting in the window of the toy store as he and mother walked by.

"MOMMY, I WANT IT! I WANT IT!" he shrieked.

"It's a very expensive stuffed alligator, Wendell," said his mother. "We're going to get groceries. You'll have to wait."

"NOOOOOOOOO! I DON'T WANNA WAIT! I WANT IT NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW!" He struggled in her grasp and kicked his feet.

He finally jerked out of her hand and ran into the store, grabbed the toy alligator, and then ran out. Then he ran away into the sewer.

"FUCK YOU, I DO WHAT I WANT!" he screamed before slamming the manhole cover.

His mother stood watching the scene with dull interest, hands clasped in front of her. "Well. I guess he lives in the sewer now," she said.

And then she walked home, humming to herself.

THE END


	17. Captain Trips

Motherfucking Captain Trips  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Please just give this mysterious unnamed plot device disease an actual name.

MOTHERFUCKING CAPTAIN TRIPS

Like every D'Void and Captain Hook story of the past, we join the Sewer King suffering from the illness that kills characters dead for the sake of the terribly contrived plot. He shuddered and suffered. His body grew unbearably hot one minute, freezing cold the next. He vomited and gasped and coughed and sputtered. The kids were all dead on the floor, scattered all over the sewer. It looked like Jonestown. But in a Sewer. Smelled pretty bad too. Luckily he'd gotten so hoarse from screaming "CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD!" repeatedly that he couldn't talk anymore. So we don't have to listen to him for the length of this fic. Which is rather short.

Exactly three alligators came up and began eating the children's bodies. The Sewer King croaked out a whispery "Nooo!"

But it was too late. They died.

He sobbed. Then he also died.

He shit himself uncontrollably first, and then died.

THE END


	18. Textual Diarrhea

Textual Diarrhea  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Somebody out there's fapping to this.

TEXTUAL DIARRHEA

The Sewer King tossed and turned in his bed one evening...or morning...it was hard to tell down in a sewer. He sat up, placing a hand across his abdomen. Something from last night's meal hadn't agreed with him. It churned inside him with unrelenting fierceness.

"Those brats! I bet they tried to poison me so they could escape when I was distressed! I knew I should have made one of them my official poison taster."

Cursing up a storm, he threw off his sheets and ran to the bathroom. Which he had. In the sewer. Even though the sewer in really just one big bathroom.

He shut the door and pulled down his light blue boxer shorts, slamming his ass down on the porcelain mouth. He then reenacted that hilariously disgusting scene from Van Wilder.

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUH GOD, HERE IT COMES, YES, YES, YES!" he cried out.

His ass let go with the force of a fireman's hose. A stream of foulness shot from betwixt his pale cheeks.

He shuddered and bounced, screaming as the vicious heat of the mudslide threatened to decimate his anus. He sobbed. His ass rumbled, releasing screaming farts and bubbling brown stew into the bowl. It continued on for what felt like hours. After a while he looked down and realized he had a giant boner. He blushed. He also blushed because he was sinfully naked on the toilet. Shitting himself uncontrollably. Oh yeah, so fucking dirty. So fucking dirty. Jesus wept.

"MOMMY, WIPE MY ASS!" he shrieked, unable to stop himself from enjoying his newly discovered fetish. "UUUUAHGHGHGS!" bellowed the Sewer King, more shit flooding from his trumpeting asshole. It came with such force that it knocked him off the toilet and onto the floor, where he rolled and twitched in the pool of his own increasing filth, flopping this way and that. He quivered with rapture. "I'M BLEEDING! BUT IT HURTS SO GOOD!"

He screamed again. Veins stood out along his forehead and neck. He clenched his fists tightly, pounding his feet on the floor, shrieking. His asshole continued to pour its hellish brown fury. The stream of shit shot up and sprayed the ceiling. He tried to get up and failed, the change of position causing him to slide across the floor and slam into the opposite wall. There, he continued to buck against the wall, screaming and crying as the nonstop river of liquified shit exploded from his asshole. His mouth opened in an O of pained delight. This was the ultimate degradation fetish. He had reached the scat nirvana.

Eventually, he dehydrated himself from shitting too hard, and passed out. Later on, he died.

No one ever found his shit covered half naked body.

THE END


	19. Grown Men Obsessing Over Stuffed Toys

Originally posted March 17, 2018, with this accompanying note:

I may or may not be slightly drunk this evening...so...against my better judgement, have some more garbage. You masochistic heathens. These might not be edited to the best of my ability any longer because I stopped giving a shit.

* * *

More Grown Men Obsessing Over Stuffed Toys While Crying  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Let's write it one more time. Or several hundred.

MORE GROWN MEN OBSESSING OVER STUFFED TOYS WHILE CRYING

"Frog, get your bitch ass over here and obtain my pretties, you fucking brat!" ordered the Sewer King as Frog ran out of the plot of the story for a few minutes.

Sewer King went back to cuddling his other pretties which were his alligators, if you didn't get that. He scratched their snouts and if I read that line one more time I shall surely barf out of my eye sockets.

"You're my real pretties, my babies! I wuv woo! Yes I do! Yes I do!" He threw his head back and made an O-face, relishing in his fake backstory he just so happens to share with Captain Hook, Doctor Animo, and suspiciously any other evil character this person writes because she's just self-inserting into these characters and it shows so much, it's never going to stop being hilarious. God, does it show. She's using fictional characters in place of her own shitty OCs so people might get accidentally tricked into giving her validation by commenting on the stories and sympathizing with the shitty attempted child murderer villain she's projecting upon. I wish I was kidding but it's been like 10 years of this same thing. Names change, the pattern never does. Holee sheeeeet rock. "So anyhow, back to me, me, me and all the reasons you, the audience, should sympathize with me, and by that I mean the Suethor projecting onto me harder than an IMAX...I was a tragic child with a tragic backstory. I was poor and sad. I liked animals. My mommy and daddy were mean to me. All his explains my evil and also excuses it because most villain fangirls be like that." He shrugged. "ANYWAY," he shouted because he's a loon with no indoor voice, "I HAD THIS SPECIAL PRETTY THAT WAS A STUFFED TOY ALLIGATOR, JUST LIKE JAMES HOOK IN THOSE OTHER STORIES. NO CORRELATION!" No correlation, you snobs. Don't you even dare try to correlate.

And then we flash back to Mrs. Hook, uh, I mean Mrs. Lewis because it's the Batman fandom now, in the living room of their house, smiling like a Stepford wife as she served her only purpose in the plot. She gave her son a toy alligator.

"Oh boy! I shall treasure always," said Wendell. He snorted and let out an evil laugh. "Just kidding! I'm a spoiled little asshole brat from a rich house who throws fits whenever my family doesn't give me whatever I want immediately and has destructively violent temper tantrums!" He threw down the stuffed alligator. "THIS ISN'T THE ONE I WANTED! THIS IS THE GENERIC VERSION! I WANTED THE LIGHT AND SOUND DESTRUC-O-DILE FROM ANIMALFORMERS! THAT'S THE ONE ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE GETTING FOR CHRISTMAS, MOTHER, YOU STUPID USELESS FUCKING BITCH!"

"Don't talk to your mother like that," scolded his dad while not looking up from either his beer or the paper. "We can barely afford to buy you all this shit so enjoy that damn toy your mother got you, you selfish spoiled brat. Money doesn't grow on trees. If you want all this expensive garbage that you play with for about a week and then it ends up in the closet, then go out and get a damn job. You're twenty years old, for Christ's sake!"

"SHUT UP! YOU'RE DISTRESSING ME!" Wendell burst into hysterical sobs and ran away to the sewer.

Sewer King fell into his standard fetal position and sobbed hysterically while hugging a stuffed alligator and sucking his thumb. "Pity me, you fucks. Can't you see I deserve it?"

No, not really.

THE END


	20. Stockholm Syndrome Daddy

Stockholm Syndrome Is Okay If The Suethor Wants A Character To Sympathize With The Abusive Creep She's Calling Daddy Behind The Scenes  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Hey, remember when Helen Wheels did this to D'Void and Wendy Darling did it with Captain Hook? Yeah. It's that disturbingly obvious now. Man, just make a generic OC Mary Sue already. Everyone knows you want to. What a lack of imagination. No one she's so bitter towards other Suethors. At least they don't hide their Suewage behind canon.

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME IS OKAY IF THE SUETHOR WANTS A CHARACTER TO SYMPATHIZE WITH THE ABUSIVE CREEP SHE'S CALLING DADDY BEHIND THE SCENES

We join poor Frog now chained to the Suethor's merciless whims to be forever tortured as an interchangeable plot device, stripped of all canonical agency as a character, existing just so he can obsess about the Sewer King as the current new stand-in for the Suethor's Mary Sue because there's no female character to ship with him yet. We're counting on Baby Doll to show up eventually. God help us all.

Frog screamed internally and clutched his head as the Suethor forced intrusive thoughts about the Sewer King into his head. He could think of nothing else but how much the Sewer King loved screaming and scowling and sobbing and singing karaoke in dresses while smiling and sobbing and generally acting like a fucking freak and beating him with a wooden stick and abusing children. But somehow Frog was forced to sympathize with him anyway. Because he cried and loved his pet gator-wators. That's all it takes. Don't question it. You will die.

Frog saw the Sewer King crying, meaning the Suethor who wrote this steaming pile wanted to rush up and cuddle him but she couldn't because everyone would laugh harder and point it out, thus revealing her critical mass levels of hypocrisy, so she had to hide behind a random canon character when she wanted to live out her fantasies vicariously. Didn't really matter who or which gender, but she, as most Suethors, usually preferred a young female character. Shipping old men with little boys gets you in a load of trouble these days. So anyway...have some further disgusting plot with Frog being written to actually want to comfort this abusive bastard who beat and tortured him and the rest of the children in his employ. Nice. Also this is now explicitly canon...because. Because. Entering Cringe Mode.

"MUH ALLIGATOR DEAD," wailed the Sewer King. Or shall we just call him D'Void and the alligators Null Guardians. The most interesting thing is we can and it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference. Hmmm. That's good writing, eh. "SHE DIED OF MYSTERIOUS PLOT CONVENIENCE FLU AIDS CANCER!"

He sobbed harder.

Feel bad for Sewer King and ignore the tortured children he beat until their bodies were bruised.

THE END


	21. Daddy Issues Cont

Daddy Issues: Part Eleven Thousand And One  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
We get it. You got the mommy-dom daddy-sub fetish. Please, stop spamming it everywhere in a desperate attempt at exhibitionism. Just put your stories into a collection and leave it be. Flooding the whole section in clearly enraged bitterness while obviously trying to hog as much attention as possible hasn't worked the last dozen years you've done it. Why keep repeating? The insanity is real.

DADDY ISSUES: PART ELEVEN THOUSAND AND ONE

Here's another 4 chapters reduced to one single chapter. About the same old, same old. Are you tired of it? Too fucking bad. We're on this FOR ALL ETERNITY!

Or until I get bored again or the internet shuts down or starts costing dozens of separate overpriced packages. Whichever.

Sewer King was sobbing over his dead mommy and trembling as usual. It was all he could do, all he knew how to do. For some suspicious reason. He threw down the paper and sat at his throne. "Mommy always coddled me and gave me anything I wanted when I screamed for it. She got me EXPENSIVE STUFFED KITTENS...I mean...alligators, yes. My daddy wasn't so tolerant. He came in and gave me the scowl after he was tired of listening to me cry and tantrum every waking moment. I also openly admit I'm jealous of seeing other people with expensive toys and shit, whoa, projection. And especially bitter of seeing other people in functional relationships because I can't get over my ex. But we'll save that for another day since there's no young female character for me to get shipped with. Just a bunch of stupid ass kids. And I'm not allowed to touch them or I lose all my street cred as a Social Justice Warrior Elite Feminist who hates pedophilia while shipping it in secret, YES, YES, YES! Oh wait, did I say that out loud again?" He covered his mouth and looked around, terrified.

His specifically three favorite alligators came up to him and hissed. He began to cuddle and pet them while making the baby cooing talky noises.

"Are my widdle pwetties hungry-wungry?" he cooed.

He scratched their snouts. Confetti and balloons came down, horns blared, signs popped up reading HOLY SHIT, HOW MANY TIMES WILL THIS LINE BE WRITTEN?

"Oh boy! It's been the hundredth time I've made an extreme focus of that," the Sewer King noted. "I hope there's chocolate cake and underwear exposure coming up soon. Gotta hit that distinctively narrow author appeal fetish quota even though this person constantly whines that only they write the characters in character while everyone else in the fandom writes them OOC. And also mocks people for putting themselves into the characters too much. HAHAHA! Jesus. Where is the self-awareness."

So here's something wickedly hilarious for our vaguely new plot. These kids...Frog and company...who, if you've been following the last dozen similar stories...were completely stripped of their ability to actually steal things...are now being ordered to kidnap the Sewer King's father. We'll let that settle in for a moment.

Done settling? I'll wait a little longer.

Hint: Whoa, shit changes on a whim to suit the author's painfully stupid contrived plots!

Get it? Good. Moving on.

"That's right, you losers! You can't steal shit for shit, but I'll now force you inept idiot children to pull a gosh darned kidnapping and I'll bet dollars to turkeys you'll be able to do this with ease because it suddenly suits the demanded plot! That's some good fucking writing!"Sewer King yelled with a finger in the air, waving it around. "If you don't come back with my dad, I'll feed you to my alligators! How's that for pressure? NOW GO! GO, GO, GO! OUT WITH YOU!" He kicked over a random table.

The kids ran.

"Maybe they'd steal better if I threatened them with death every time instead of being tossed in the harsh fluorescent light room," said the Sewer King, sitting back in his throne.

Hours later, Sewer King was sitting on the pipe watching his alligators swim around in the water below. Batman was noticeably absent. He would be forever. It made the story easier to progress if the main character and hero didn't show up to intrude upon the Suethor's wild villain daddy pants baby fantasy. As did the absence of logic and reason, as well as all canonical characterization, and proper writing. Funny how those always seem to go together.

"Writing is hard! But for some reason we still demand to be recognized as the best author ever even though we can't do it well. YES, YES, YEEEEES!" cried the Sewer King, clapping his hands.

And I'll be damned, here comes Frog and the kids with the Sewer King's kidnapped dad. Way to go, Frog. You accomplished something when the plot finally allowed you to.

"What the hell are you little brats doing? How did I get here? Where's Batman? Who the fuck are you?" Mr. Lewis looked up and recognized his son's infernal high-pitched sissy laughter. He squinted at the man who he formerly knew as his son, now dressed as a bizarre feces scented pirate. In the sewer. Sewer pirate. "Wendell? Is that you? Why in the hell are you in the sewer? And why are you dressed like that? Are you a fruit? A Captain Jack Sparrow? An ass pirate?"

"I'M THE SEWER KING NOW! AND NO, I'M UTTERLY HETEROSEXUAL, DAD! I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND IN METROPOLIS! SHE'S REAL! I TALK TO HER EVERY DAY ON FACEBOOK! It's not me roleplaying in a bonnet and blonde wig, always taking fat girl angle selfies so nobody notices my massive shoulders." He scowled a scowl hard enough to shatter bricks.

Mr. Lewis saw the alligators below him. "What are all these crocodiles doing in here? There's so many of them! Where did they all come from? Is anyone going to explain that?"

"THEY'RE ALLIGATORS, DAD! THERE'S A DIFFERENCE!" Sewer King popped a throat lozenge before he lost his voice from all the constant screaming. "People buy them as exotic pets and when they start getting too big and scary they throw them down here. This is why you don't buy exotic pets."

Oh, giggle-snort, the narration makes Mr. King's Dad reveal the kids dragged him out of bed, same as all the extremely lame plot convenience kidnappings this person has ever written, from V.V. Argost and beyond. So it's safe to assume Mr. Lewis is the deepest sleeper in the world and didn't cause much fuss as a bunch of eleven year olds kidnapped him from his bed and dragged him through the streets of Gotham into the sewers, all the way over here. Okay then. Willing suspension of disbelief obliterated once again.

Fuck logic, right in its ass.

"YOU WERE A MEANIE WEENIE TO ME AND GAVE ME SEVERE DADDY ISSUES, DAD! YOU DENIED ME EVERYTHING I WANTED SO I BECAME A SWEAR PIRATE AND I ABUSE CHILDREN NOW AND FORCE THEM TO STEAL THE THINGS I WANT! EXCEPT THEY NEVER DO BECAUSE THEY SUCK AT IT ALL OF A SUDDEN, UNLIKE IN THE ACTUAL EPISODE'S CANON, WHERE EACH OF THEM WERE GROOMED TO PROVIDE A SPECIFIC TASK FOR ME, LIKE THIEVERY FOR THE ELITE GREMLINS WHO PROBABLY HAD A LOT OF STREET SAVVY BEFORE I FOUND THEM AND BACK BREAKING LABOR AND SWEATSHOP STYLE SEWING AND DOING THE LAUNDRY FOR THE REST OF THE UNSKILLED. WRITING IS HARD. FUCK WRITING. BUT I'M THE BEST AT IT SOMEHOW!" He inhaled deeply. "So did anyone catch that I'm basically a Chinese bootleg Fagin from Oliver Twist yet?"

"Wow. We really shouldn't have let you go without certain expenses, Wendell. And for that I'm sorry," said Mr. Lewis. "We really should have gotten you some therapy before it came to this."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Sewer King shouted.

His dad was also hanging from the edge of the pipe. His dad, get this, is right now standing in for BATMAN in this scene. In the episode The Underdwellers. That is actually happening right now. A presumably 60-something or 70-something year old man. Pulling a replacement for Batman in this scene. Where Batman is hanging over the alligator pit with SK is stepping on his fingers. Only Batman has been replaced with this character. A bad OC clone of Sewer King. Who is just an old man. His daddy issues personified. For plot reasons. And bad writing. And lack of imagination. That's...what's going on right now. Yep.

So can we do an official count of how many times they just took an entire scene from the canon episode, gutted the characters they don't care about, and replaced them with their own garbage OCs just so they could live out the daddy-mommy-brother-waifu drama crying torture death underwear rape thing over and over. I feel it's been well over a hundred instances by now. And counting.

"I'm now going to do this to you instead of Batman because Batman's not here because I hate him and he wilts my self-insertion boner," said the Sewer King. "Sucks for you, old man!"

He ground his heel into his dad's fingers. Instead of him immediately screaming in pain and falling to his death, he had the same endurance as Batman and didn't let go. Wowzers. What a coincidence.

"YOU ARE A MEANIE WEENIE AND ABUSED ME DURING MY CHILDHOOD!"

"AAAH, WENDELL, YOU FUCKING MORON, YOUR MOTHER AND I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING YOUR GREEDY LITTLE HEART DESIRED! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A SPOILED ROTTEN BRAT!" His father grimaced and continued to hold on as the Sewer King stomped the man's fingers much harder, grinding against the fragile old bones with the heel of his filthy boot.

"YOU FORGOT MY TENTH BIRTHDAY!"

"WE GOT YOU A SUPER NINTENDO FOR YOUR TENTH BIRTHDAY! THE ONE YOU EXPLICITLY DEMANDED! YOU BROKE IT AFTER YOU COULDN'T BEAT DONKEY KONG!" his father reasoned, tears budding in the corner of his eyes. "GET A FUCKING GRIP! YOU'RE INSANE!"

Kingie's dad grabbed SK's cape and ripped it off somehow so it fell into the pit below. Mmm, we're really not going to attempt to do anything other than take the whole scene and replace the characters and what actually happens in the canon episode with what we're stealing and calling "original material" now, confirmed. Five bucks Craig Dragotti is now screaming about his pretties and cuddling alligators all day long instead of cobras and kittens. Same as he was counting coins and turning Egyptian. No correlation. Original Material, Donut Steel. Best writer in the fandom, very creative, much unique.

Hey, folks. Did you want more overt underwear fetrishism coupled with that oh so taboo hint of incest fetishism? Well here it is anyway.

Mr. Lewis grabbed his son's pants and yanked them down, exposing his son's boxer shorts. "MY EYES!" He held onto his grip with one hand as he used the other to cover his soiled eyes. "This isn't logical nor is it right. This serves absolutely no purpose in what the author was attempting to make some dramatic grimdark fic and you can tell this was stuck in purely as fetish fuel because they're obsessed with exposing their designated sissy boy's underwear. Author appeal like a mofo." Hilarious as always. Thanks for the commitment.

"This is true," said the Sewer King, blushing like a kawaii anime yaoi uke. He pulled up his pants instead of losing his balance and falling into the pit. "The time for fetish is now passed. Also, FUCK YOU, DAD!"

"Oh my God, BATMAN, HELP ME!" Mr. Lewis screamed, hoping to be saved. Fat chance, but at least he tried.

Sewer King laughed. The alligators growled and hissed.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. Is that what you want? I'm sorry! I don't want to die. Wendell, please don't murder your father for petty and insane reasons," his father begged. "By the way, I'm wearing roughly the same outfit as you because the only thing the Suethor can do with 'Original Character' parents is make clones of the greasy male character they're currently fixating on. This is why every fake OC parent character of whichever ugly and cruel minor canon character she's calling daddy is an exact copy of that character with grey hair and the clothes colored black. Like most Sonic OCs."

"Some Suethors really do not have any creativity whatsoever," the Sewer King remarked. "No wonder they spend all day bitching about people with actual creativity who get more popular than them by producing works people want to read and give positive comments to, unlike spamming fifty seven thousand three paragraph crazy vomit about the same thing over and over and over and over and, you get the idea."

"Here, look, I just so happen to have this plot convenient stuffed alligator in my pocket. By the way, I was sleeping in my everyday clothes also for convience to have such a pocket. Sleeping with this stuffed alligator in my pocket! So very convenient and weird in a way that will never be pointed out."

"Well good golly gosh, isn't that special," said the Sewer King. He grabbed the cuddly stuffed toy and huggled it happily, like your average 35 year old man-child who lives in a sewer and manipulates children for his own greedy, sadistic benefit all day. "Oh boy! And now this magically repairs everything. I don't wanna murder you any longer, Daddy. Love and possibly exposing my undies has cured all! Just like in every Sue fic ever written. But this one is much better because MUH CANONZ."

He helped his dad out of danger.

"Cool beans," said his father.

Batman swung down and punched the Sewer King in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground.

"Oh thank God, it's Batman!" Mr. Lewis cried happily. "I do want to press charges against my psychotic son. He frightens me terribly."

"Noted," said Batman, pulling out his Batcuffs. He went to place them on the unconscious child abuser and crime lord.

"BABY MAN SAD FEELS," whined the Sewer King. "Now I cry." He burst into hysterical sobs. "Please feel sorry for me, and by proxy, the weirdo who wrote the original version of this seriously hoping someone in the nonexistent audience did that so they could be validated through vicariously living through fictional characters who remind them of their horrible selves."

"You'll be crying a lot harder in jail," said Batman.

And he did. Because shower room ass punishment.

THE END


	22. Constant Dissstresssss

Constant Dissstresssss  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
If people don't give my obvious author self-insertion sex fantasies poorly disguised as popular canon characters the correct amount of attention I desire, there will be loads of it. In the form of endless shrieking and petty passive-aggressive authors notes. A family favorite.

CONSTANT DISSSTRESSSSS

Daddy Silly Print Boxer Shorts Stink Man Child Catcher pranced around his babies, who were very cute and adorable alligators, while cuddling a stuffed version of his babies, which was a very cute and adorable stuffed toy alligator. He had the overt sissy fetish. Playing with stuffed toys was a huge red flag that transfers over to every villain who happens to fit the same characteristics and appears in this person's work. No correlation. Except there very much is. He was currently wearing lacy pink panties, the boots, the gloves, the glasses, and the cape. Nothing else.

"I'm never distressed while I'm forcing the ignorant masses to unwillingly participate in my bizarre and disturbing yet funny as hell sexual fetishes which I call canon and then state that I am the greatest fanfiction writer and fan of all time in a desperate attempt to assuage my low self-esteem and constant bitterness over not being The Best Of All. The most humorous part of this statement is I have absolutely no fucking clue about anything in the massive amount of related source material outside of my three constant projections: The Craig, the Isabella, and the Sasha. All of which are generic templates to play out my favorite cuckold incest porn threesome fantasy. Hope nobody finds out...again. Then I'd have to jump fandoms for the billionth time and repeat the same thing over 4,000 more times in order to groom some unsuspecting losers into giving me my narc supply and manipulating them into writing me more free request OC boxer shorts sobbing torture porn that I will steal and claim as my own after saying they're a loser behind their back and obsessing over them being more popular than me the second they disagree with me or stop defending me from my critics and trolls. Tee hee." He stuck his finger in his mouth coyly, giving the camera the doe-eye innocent blowjob ready look.

Then he SCOWLED.

The wall in front of him shattered.

Can...can you please...just...please for the love of your choice of deity...just...look up an online thesaurus. They exist. They're not entirely bad. In your case, they'd be a definite resource to look into. I know you won't because you haven't used any of the advice anyone has given you in the past, like, what, ten years? Or made the slightest attempts at improving your writing or your plots.

The interchangeable plot devices came in. One was a Lucky Charms cereal box. The rest were some rats that had been vaguely trained to perform simple tasks and stay in formation for up to thirteen minutes.

"OH NO, THE INTERCHANGEABLE PLOT DEVICES ARE HERE! HOW THEY DISTRESS ME! D-D-D-D-ISSSSTRESSSSSSSSSS!" screamed Daddy Boxers, AKA the creep formerly known as the Sewer King, king of child slave labor, NO INDOOR VOICE, and throwing tantrums like a traditional man-baby idiot. Total Daddypants, unf. Ovaries annihilated, right ladies? Heavily implied wiiiiiiink.

The devices were quickly removed from the plot after his outburst. They vanished back into the void to be forgotten until the next time they were briefly required for an entirely stupid reason that emphasized the point that they were completely interchangeable tools, not characters with any depth or serious purpose, and did not matter to the story outside the means of progressing from point A to point B in a quick and sloppy manner.

Sewie held his object of infantilization tighter. He sucked his left thumb loudly. Then he burst into heavy sobs.

"Sissy fetish. That's all. That's all it's ever been. This notorious Suethor overlord controlling all my actions does not actually wish to explore a ridiculously minor character with zero depth and make up some depth for them so the stories would be the lowest possible but slightest bit entertaining. No, none of that whatsoever. All it is is living out a creepy fetish by removing a canon character's established character traits and personality and then turning them into a walking sissy fetish kawaii uke woobie while demanding to the audience that they feel sympathy for this character now. And by this character we mean the poorly disguised Suethor who is very obviously self-inserting. It's not completely obvious to anyone, of course. Right? I assume. This is good writing. You're all just a bunch of talentless plebes! Sewer King is daddy! You're just a bunch of stupid haters with bad taste! How dare you not want to jam your hands down the Sewer King's boxer shorts and cuddle his unwashed ball sack! That makes you big fat poop faces! Big fat poop faces who are dumb and smell like poop!" He shook his fist and glared, teeth bared like an enraged chimpanzee.

He dropped dead suddenly.

Then the alligators consumed his reeking excrement-filled body without hesitation.

Batman and Joker showed up, eating ice cream cones. They were on a date. In the sewer. And just happened to show up here at this exact point in time. Don't ask why.

"What the fuck?" Batman laughed.

"Oh, Batsy, take a picture! This is too good," Joker said. "Pweeze? I have a hilarious caption and everything." He tapped the side of his head.

Batman shook his head, then took a picture with his Bat-Spy-Camera because he couldn't say no to Joker's puppy dog eyed face. "I'm Batman. And your mangled corpse is going on Reddit."

THE END


	23. Validate My Narcissism

Please Validate My Narcissism Before I Have Another Breakdown  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
I've lost my supply since the Evil Trolls called me out around three years ago and most of the young and spineless socially inept weeaboos I was easily manipulating for free porn and ideas to steal left for greener pastures. Woe is me, let me spam the cartoon sections until I find a new emotionally vulnerable sucker who's into subbing and hates their parents or exes.

PLEASE VALIDATE MY NARCISSISM BEFORE I HAVE ANOTHER BREAKDOWN

Interchangeable Plot Device Boy wandered aimlessly at INSERT LOCATION HERE. His mind was flooded by force with the endless obsession with his abuser, the Sewer King. God, that Sewer King. What a hot piece of ass he was. What an absolute Daddy. He loved his baby alligators like they were his own daughters. He really didn't deserve all the shit he got from stupid critics. They didn't know anything. They were hypocrites who didn't realize he was the best Batman villain of all time. He was truly such a complex character. That for whatever reason, will never be explored by his self-proclaimed greatest fan. All he did in every story was sit around and cry, and sometimes sing karaoke in a dress for hours while smiling and crying again, and forcing the rest of his victims to call him either Craig or Atsushi. Things always got super weird. No one was allowed to question it under threats of punishment. And they really, really, reaaaaaaaally did not want to see the rape and torture dungeon ever again, so no one ever questioned anything.

Suddenly there was a convenient vehicle in the vicinity that just so happened to break down in front of him for the sake of the plot. Good thing, because he didn't know how to be a real thief any longer. Almost as if he had been very badly written, with little care or effort involved. As evidenced that he no longer had any of the sass and rebelliousness he showed during the episode The Underdwellers. Now he was simply a vehicle himself. A vehicle for the Suethor. To obsess over the Sewer King and coddle his unwashed ass every waking moment. Because he is new Daddypants.

Somewhere in the distance, about three hundred universes over, Captain Hook bellowed with relief, a great, deep, "ODDS, BOBS, HAMMER AND TONGS, THANK THE LORD! IT'S FINALLY OVER!" And then was silenced forever.

Frog leaned over and gripped his stomach. Something rumbled up inside him. Something bad. Like the story. He let out a crippling fart.

It startled an old fat lady so much that she screamed and dropped her expensive necklace right into his hands.

"Oh, how convenient," said Frog, before remembering he wasn't supposed to talk or be his own freethinking person. He clasped his hand over his mouth.

"Halp, I was robbed by a leprechaun on St. Patty's Day! How absurd!" screamed the distressed fat lady.

"Now to run home to my sweet Sewer Daddy and have deviant thoughts about him placed there by a 30 year old woman who has an underwear exposing, dick peeking, little prepubescent boy porking, and piss drinking fetish, among other things," Frog said inside his head.

He skipped all the way to the sewer. He found Daddy sobbing in his boxer shorts on top of the carcass of a single dead alligator, same way Dr. Animo slash D'Void did all those years ago, no correlation, we swear.

"THERE'S SUCH A FUCKING CORRELATION!" Frog screamed, and threw the necklace down. He folded his arms. "I am really sick of it." Aren't we all. Get in line.

"Daddy sad! Baby dead!" sobbed the Sewer King while kissing the alligator's face repeatedly.

"You disgust me," said Batman, who had once again appeared for the sake of comedy.

"You're jelly I'm a hotter piece of ass than you," whimpered the Sewer King.

"Dream on," said Batman. He removed the Bat-Pedophile-Spray from his Bat utility belt and gave the sicko a good spraying in the face, watching him squirm and squeal.

Then he and Frog and the rest of the children laughed and pointed at the stupid asshole worthless piece of shit.

"What a loser," said Frog. He was correct.

"Come on, kids," Batman said after they were finished humiliating the Sewer King even though he got off on it, and mounted his stallion, the Bat-Horse. "Let's go out for pizza."

"Bat-pizza?" one of the kids inquired.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," said Batman.

"Everything is better if you put Bat in front of it," said Frog.

The children cheered. Batman flicked the reigns and went "Giddy yap!" They all rode off into the sunset.

The Suethor came running out of the basement, pale and shrieking, waving her cheeto dust covered fist.

"THAT'S NOT HOW THE FUCKING STORY GOES, YOU POOPY FACE TROLL! YOU HYPOCRITE! YOU...YOU NARC BLOCKER! I'LL HAVE MY REVENGE AND MY SUPPLY!" She burst into tears for hours.

Because, she quickly found out, unlike her friends and family who are legally obligated to bend to her whims or face immediate threat of harm by being in the same vicinity as her IRL, randos on the internet were hard to forcibly manipulate into giving you what you want the second you demand it. They don't bow down immediately and make you the queen of everything just because you throw a giant shit fit.

"REALITY SUCKS BALLS," she screamed, stomping her foot and kicking the wall. She then went home and broke four PS3s and ordered a PS4 to break in the immediate future.

The fandom continued to not give a shit about the Sewer King, outside of parodying and laughing at the fact that some 30 year old infamous porn obsessed stalking creeper with a mommy femdom infantalization fetish and a massive grudge against her ex-boyfriend sissy sub thinks he's a cute bab because she sees herself in him thanks to the long hair and glasses, the general unlikability, social maladjustment, the cruel, controlling, manipulative nature, the playing with exotic animals, and overt relentless greed which cannot be satisfied. Because they don't have to. And luckily no one can force them. Not even through passive-aggressive author's notes and spamming the whole section with dozens and dozens of two paragraph "drabbles" instead of placing them into collections for courtesy. That wouldn't get enough attention or be able to knock down all the other better stories who've been stealing the spotlight away from our massive attention whoring walking victim complex.

"WHAT A FUCK OF SHIT," the Suethor screamed. "Now I'll have to turn myself into a shrieking baby again in order to get my narc supply."

She snapped her fingers and became a female baby alligator. She began shrieking and sobbing exactly like a human infant.

The Sewer King immediately gasped and got up, running over to the alligator baby Sue. He picked it up and cuddled it. "Holy fuck, my life is now complete! I've found someone to love! And by love, I mean psychotically obsess over and coddle to the point of insanity and hopefully death. I've gotta go find a baby crib to pt you in. Also your name is The Sewer Princess now and you're officially my adopted daughter, who is very much not an obvious Mary Sue insert of the author. The haters can suck my smegma coated dick. Unlike you, who I can't officially ship with myself...but you know I'm totally shipping you with myself!"

The alligator baby Sue started kissing his face and Sewer King groaned before slapping tongues with it.

"This is legal," he said. "Because she's not an ICKY HUMAN GIRL! That makes her NOT a Mary Sue and also better than everyone else's shitty Sues in this fandom." Then he ran off, giggling like a freak.

THE END


	24. Obvious Ship Baiting

Is This OTP Popular Or Not? I Just Want Attention!  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Shipping two conventionally attractive smart chicks? Ew. Gross. Platonic idiot shenanigans turning them into infantile stereotypes it is then.

IS THIS OTP POPULAR OR NOT? I JUST WANT ATTENTION!

Poison Waifu stuffed a black rose into her mouth. She chewed while drooling. Her brain had been removed for the sake of the plot. There wasn't much of one.

"I wuv flowers," she groaned. Her eyes wandered off in opposite directions. "That's my entire characterization now. I love the flowers and I am always mad at Harley-poo for wrecking my babies." She picked up a frying pan and smacked herself in the face a few times. "Derp! Brain no work here." She laughed like an idiot and then stared into space for an hour.

The door slammed open. The laugh track cued.

"HIYA, RED!" Harley yelled and waved. "Oh, I mean, HIYA, POISON OAKEY! YEP, THAT'S MY PERMANENT NICKNAME FOR YA! OAKEY, OAKEY, ARTICHOKEY!" She skated in on her roller skates, but stupidly. Because the floor was carpeted. She fell over the nearest ornamental cushioned footstool. "Gosh, I'm a ditzy bimbo clutz with absolutely no other redeeming qualities, ain't I? Yep, that's me."

"Why the fuck are you here again?" Ivy questioned suspiciously, breaking momentarily out of her daze and going into parody mode levels of self-awareness.

"Because the plot needs a lame joke that makes the both of us look like morons," Harley said, smiling for hours.

"That's what I was afraid of," said Ivy.

Harley stuffed some of the roses into her mouth and chewed with a placidly dumb look on her face. "Mmmm, pointy." She spit out the wadded mass of chewed rose after a few minutes, having become bored. She blinked cutely up at Ivy. "Oakey, let's suck tiddy."

"No," Ivy said. "I follow the Lord and the Lord frowns upon this kind of thing, as does most of the people who write me this way and hate female characters. More so if they're bisexual."

"Harley want suck Momma's milky!" Harley whined, pounding her fists on the carpeted floor. She began to sob and tantrum. She broke into a laugh. "Okay, now you give me the binky and say STOP THAT YELLING, NAUGHTY BABY! Then change my daipey."

Ivy pulled out a gun and shot herself rather than be forced to play out this humiliation.

Harley frowned at Ivy's corpse. "Gee, I wonder where Mistah J is. He'd never pass up the change to play naughty baby needs a spankin'. Although he always shoves the binky in my pooter instead of my mouth."

Cue laugh track again.

THE END


	25. Anti Harley x Joker Bitterness When

Harley x Joker Misconstrued Pandering When  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
When it happens, the laughter will be long and boisterous.

HARLEY X JOKER MISCONSTRUED PANDERING WHEN

"Poison Oakey, Poison Oakey, you can tell Le Author Originale has only watched a handful of episodes and doesn't understand anything about Harley and Ivy's relationship when they get written talking and acting like this," Harley sang as she skipped along nowhere in particular. She was out wandering, like every character in fics like these who will continue to do so until the end of time. "How do we not have a single fic written from the perspective of Arkham yet, which is far more interesting and makes for good Batman based fics. What an entry level failure. Write some damn Arkham fic. And throw in a few Johnny Cranes and Jervy Tetches, ya coward."

She wandered until she came to a random nondescript house sitting in the middle of nowhere. She rang the doorbell. Fade to black. What happened? Who the fuck cares. Nothing of interest, obviously.

Then it was Ivy's birthday party and no one else but Harley showed up to it. Depressing. Harley stuffed her face with chocolate cake because it was part of her fetish and then she shoved the gift box across the table to Ivy.

"Check out what I gotcha, Re...uh...Oakey. You're gonna love it."

"I swear to God, if I open this and a Joker-in-the-box pops out and gasses me, Harley, I'm gonna," Ivy began but didn't finish.

"HAPPY BIRFDAY!" Harley yelled as Ivy opened it and was hit in the face with a pair of tits-in-the-box. "I had 'em custom made." She jiggled her chest at Ivy while giggling.

"Gosh, thanks Harley," Ivy said with her face still stuck in the giant fake breasts. "You're the best Gal Pal I ever had."

Somewhere, the Joker's domestic abuse revenge boner got extra hard for a minute or two, and then he went back to masturbating over a photo of Batman while the Penguin and the Riddler watched from the apartment across the street. Batman watched the Penguin and the Riddler watch the Joker masturbating over his photo from the rooftop. Catwoman was watching Batman watching Penguin and Riddler watching Joker masturbating over a photo of Batman from the side of another building. Robin was on his motorcycle watching Catwoman watching Batman watching Penguin and Riddler watching Joker masturbating over a photo of Batman.

"Ew, that shit's messed up," he said. He pulled out a photo of Barbara Gordon wearing only half of the Batgirl costume. Guess which half. "Now this I can fap to."

And while all this was going on, the Clock King was standing on the corner, waiting for the bus that turned out to be three point twelve microseconds late. He got super fucking pissed off and tried to murder Mayor Hill again.

THE END


	26. Ghost Gators A Poppin'

Back with more steaming hot parodies for your dissatisfied insanityhole.

* * *

Ghost Gators A Poppin'  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
In which animals die for no real reason so Daddy can be sad. This somehow equals amazing emotional depth and adds complexity to this villain.

GHOST GATORS A POPPIN'

We join our real hero and main character of the Batman franchise, the Sewer King, king of all Daddies, and cuddler of cute alligators, in his sewer domain. He was smiling into space for an hour while playing with his gators. Like Doctor Animo all those years ago.

"No fucking correlation," Sewer King yelled, glaring at the fourth wall. He continued to cuddle his gators. "Who's hungry? Because I sure am. Literally all I think about is food, degradation sissy cuckold porn, cats, and crying on the internet how oppressed and misunderstood I am on my various incel dominated forums."

The alligators dropped dead. Because as we all know, sleeping is just a metaphor for death.

"Okay then," said the Sewer King, staring at them glumly.

And then he was forever alone.

He began to cry relentlessly in the darkness. "Why does everything I touch die?" He grabbed his face in his hands and continued to sob hysterically.

The alligators became ghosts and appeared in front of him.

"MUH BABIES! YOU'RE ALIVE!" Sewer King exclaimed when he uncovered his eyes. He shit his pants and bent over, overwhelmed by a crippling pain. "But I'm not. Oh, shit."

He passed out and died shortly after, then became a ghost and joined his gator babies in the astral realm.

"Well, that happened," he said, shrugging.

THE END


	27. Distressing Amounts of Repetition

Distressing Amounts of Repetition  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Everyone dies, everyone cries, repeat, repeat, repeat and spam two thousand more times. Because if people didn't want to read it the first 600 times, fifteen more should convince them.

DISTRESSING AMOUNTS OF REPETITION

Sewer King was struck down by the mysterious plot cancer again. He was dying. A few minutes earlier, his precious baby pet alligators had been struck with the horrific disease. It was like the flu, but not really, because it was also like cancer. Just a method to induce suffering on a character of choice so sad feels can be accomplished. It's not shallow or contrived.

"Ha ha, it totally is," said the SK before coughing up some blood. He began to cuddle the alligator before he made out with it. "You know, I'm starting to think this is how we all caught this unidentified disease. And yet I can't bring myself to stop." So he kept on slapping tongues with his beloved animal family he had raised from baby gators. Mmm, interspecies incest.

Oh my God. Are you serious? This is amazing.

In this story that has been so far fueled by the dumb serious tone drama and angst...we...we still have...WE STILL HAVE RANDOM OUT OF PLACE UNDERWEAR EXPOSURE? Yesssssssssssssssss!

"What the fucking shit?" Even Sewer King was taken aback at this. But he couldn't do anything except what the narration forced him to. "Damn it." His trousers fell down and exposed his BOXER SHORTS. "But why?" he wailed, flinging his hands through the air helplessly.

UnDeRwEAr fEtISH, the voice of the Legion screamed from beyond the shadows.

"Okay, man. But this is getting downright fucked the fuck up. I mean, if you're going to do shit like this, just admit you have the fetish and quit playing around like a pussy. Just write some sexual shit. Don't sit there and act like this isn't completely sexual, given all the past evidence." Sewer King kept his trousers down instead of quickly pulling them back up, for the sake of this parody. He waddled around with his pants down around his ankles. "Fuck. I wish I wasn't alive right now."

The alligator next to him died on the spot.

"Surprise, we're already dead and now we're ghosts!" shouted the Sewer King. "Which means I don't even need clothing anymore." He pulled down his boxer shorts as well, farting loudly. "I didn't even know ghosts could fart!" He found himself lifting up into the air. "YEAH, BABY, NOW I CAN FLY!"

Sewer King and the dead ghost alligator floated around until they were consumed by a wandering Nether Demon and sent to Hell.

"Well, shucks. This isn't fun anymore," said the Sewer King, frowning as he was forcefully bent over a slab of brimstone by Satan, who was preparing to shove a large hot poker up his rectum.

"SMILE, PRINCESS," said Satan cheerfully. "YOU'RE GONNA DO THIS FOR ALL ETERNITY."

"Or at least until my Suethor gets bored. Which very well could take three to five years," the Sewer King noted, and burst into tears before screaming in pain as Satan thrust his arm forward.

THE END


	28. Human Pet Joke

Human Pet Joke  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Is this going somewhere? No? Okay. That might be a good thing.

HUMAN PET JOKE

Sewer King smiled as his enslaved kiddies tossed their loot at his feet. He erupted in a shrieking scream of laughter, diving into the pile of gold coins and jewels, purses and sacks, watches, baubles, and knick-knacks, rubbing them up and down his unwashed body.

"Oh, yeah. This is awesome. I just manipulate weak people into doing whatever I want, and I can be cruel to them because they can't do anything about it unless someone helps them escape from me," the Sewer King gloated. "That's my whole character. I'm so hot, right? A fucking panty dropper. That's me!"

The children cringed.

The kid, Frog, ran up and stapled a note to his forehead. "Ha ha, this is copied from that old dumb OC shit, pet play references as a joke! How's that feel, CRAIG!"

"AAAH! WHAT THE FUCK, SASHA! STOP CUCKING ME! YOU WORK FOR ME! WHY DON'T I FIRE YOU!" Craig, I mean Sewer King yelled.

"Because you're stupid," said Frog. "Look, I can talk as much as I want to because this is a parody!" He danced around, flipping off the Sewer King.

"MEANIE!" Sewer King shoved his thumb into his mouth and began to suck it, hard. His pants fell down and revealed his boxer shorts. All the children laughed at him. He burst into tears. "Please end this story already!"

THE END


	29. Damsel Crying For Daddy

Damsel Crying For Daddy  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Here's the new Isabella. Poor Batgirl. And it really doesn't matter who's the Craig, as long as it's some really ugly old guy with long hair who also sobs.

DAMSEL CRYING FOR DADDY

Batgirl and Batman were walking around in a really bad fanfic one dark and cruel Gotham Eve.

"Holy sissy fetish, Batgirl. We're in a shitfic," Batman quickly deduced.

"You don't have to be the world's greatest detective to understand that! By the way, why are we walking in the middle of the street like this," she questioned.

"Because stupid asshole pretending to be a Batman fanatic so they can flick their bean to a cuckold threesome of OCs disguised as Batman characters to gain attention to their shitfics," said Batman.

"Oh, so like, clickbait. Gotcha," said Batgirl, nodding She jiggled her boobs absent-mindedly. "So where's that sexy one episode wonder Daddy The Weeper at?"

Batman shook his head. "Hopefully not fucking the Joker. Because that would be the rarest pairing of all."

"Yaoi is a sin against God," Batgirl reasoned. "There's no reason to ship it if we can't get popularity off it."

Batman puked up some boring exposition no one cares about. He pounded on his chest a couple times. "Ugh, sorry. I don't know what's coming over me."

"Don't worry, Batty-Man! I'll keep you safe from that evil ol' Weeper," Batgirl joshed, and nudged Batman with her elbow. "Now I have to ask for a long, drawn out description of how Weeper looks! Because I'm stupid and being controlled by a Suethor and this is the most damning trait. Going into detail about a character's costume, repeatedly, like the audience is so stupid they don't know what that character looks like, nor could they be bothered to simply Google for quick reference. Because it's the author's Sue insert, hahahahahaha haw, and all detail is paid to them, no matter how dumb and boring it is." She nudged Batman again.

"Knock it off," said Batma gruffly.

"Sorry," she said and folded her arms behind her back.

"The Weeper is right there," Batman said, and pointed down the street. The Weeper was conveniently wandering around in the streets, doing nothing. Just crying. "Convenient."

"Ooh, dem's some fine old man stick legs," Batgirl moaned to herself. "What a gentleman. I bet he compulsively takes off his hat to women." She ran over, tongue flapping in the breeze. "HEY, OLDIE! ARE YOU SINGLE? I HAVE GERONTOPHILIA! Brucie isn't do it for me anymore, so I had to escalate to somebody even older to get anything out of it. Pretty soon I'm gonna only be able to orgasm from bumping on corpses."

"Hi, Batman. I'm voiced by Tim Conway. My whole thing is crying and murder. In this show, I'm credited with creating themed supervillainy and inspiring The Joker. Now, I am simply reduced to walking fetish material," he admitted before crying harder and bringing an already sopping wet handkerchief to his face. "Welp, time to show my undies." Weeper began to undo his pants.

"That's enough, really," said Batman, putting out a hand.

"No, I have to." Weeper dropped his pants and exposed his undies, much to the dismay of all involved.

Batgirl screamed and burst into tears.

Batman slapped The Weeper to the ground. He bawled louder.

"What the fuck is even going on," Batgirl sobbed.

"This story fucking sucks," the Weeper sobbed back.

"I broke a nail," said Batgirl, sobbing even harder.

"So did I," sobbed the Weeper.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP," yelled Batman.

Christ, what an entertaining story.

THE END


	30. Overt Infantilism Fetish Self-Insert

Overt Infantilism Fetish Canon Mary Sue OC Located  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Way to use one of the show's best tragic and memorable characters as the shallow vehicle to vicariously live your adult baby fetish through. Missing points like a boss. Love is a Croc self-insertion when?

OVERT INFANTILISM FETISH CANON MARY SUE OC LOCATED

"Toys, toys! I look like a doll! Slapstick! That is what my character has been reduced to. Nice," Mary Louise Dahl, AKA Baby Doll, AKA pedo magnet, chirped as she skipped aimlessly through a nondescript toy store while having intrusive flashback thoughts about the canon episode upon which the fic was originally ripped off from. "Remember the events of the episode Baby Doll? Well we just took all that and added more nonsensical stupidity to it to end it on a bad joke. Strap yourselves in, kiddies. This is going to be a wild ride. Of epic stupidity."

She let out a squee and ran to a shelf full of teddy bears and other stuffed toys, including stuffed kittens. Stuffed toys, check mark the list. Check off twice for the emphasis on cats or kittens.

"Hey, what if I hid a gun in the head of a stuffed doll, just like I had in the episode Baby Doll. That would be awesomesauce." She smiled like a moron for an hour, staring at the shelf of stuffed kittens. "Golly jeepers, I sure do love EXPENSIVE STUFFED KITTENS."

See, the story is completely different because it's a kitty now and not a dolly with button eyes and one eye was the muzzle of the gun just like in the episode we keep referencing, except it's not so much as referencing as completely stealing the plot word for word and pasting the Suethor's own OCs onto it and then calling it canon and demanding everyone else in the fandom worship it as the One True Canon Or Else You're A Hypocrite. Uh huh. Cue excessive drinking.

"I really did mean to this time," Baby Doll said, taking the toy from the shelf.

She heard some random noises and turned around to see the young shop clerk coming over. He froze in his tracks, looking horrified at seeing her standing there.

"Oh my sweet weed flavored piss, this doll came to life and is walking around," screamed the guy. He grabbed her and threw her into a trash can and slammed the lid down. "IT'S THE FUCKING BRIDE OF CHUCKY! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"

"Jeepers Creepers, this ending is better than the original and it's still dumb as fuck," Baby Doll groaned.

She died from starvation because apparently she was stuck there forever with no way out, yelling didn't help, and her character doesn't matter. It serves no other purpose in the story beyond a stupid joke about her looking like a doll and somehow being mistaken for one even though she can speak and fight back. Logic ruins the joke so it doesn't exist anymore. Bye, logic. We'll miss you.

Okay, I love you, buh-bye.

THE END


	31. Punishing The Fandom

_Y'all gonna have to start posting more she's trying to bump you back down every time you and the other peeps update one freaking story. She so mad. - An Anonymous Asshole Via Forum Post_

Please, FCC Overlords, release me from this weeaboo social reject filled social media hell so that I might live my life constructively instead of being tempted by numerous time wasting fodder.

* * *

Punishing The Fandom  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Craig, I mean Wendell forces everyone to listen to his monotone karaoke fetishes.

PUNISHING THE FANDOM

Craig Dragotti, formerly known as Captain James Hook, now called the Sewer King, ORIGINAL CHARACTER, DONUT STEEL, you uncreative heathens, please don't use Word Replace II to directly witness this correlation for yourselves in its most obvious form, pranced around under the overzealous control of a well documented pedophile with a sissy rape torture fetish. Spooky. Somehow remaining hilarious, even after all these years, throughout hundreds of fandoms, and witnessed in thousands of copy-pasted "original fanfictions" suspiciously sharing the same handful of repetitive characteristics and plots.

Sewie had just finished up abusing one of his precious children whom he loves so much because he's a Good Daddy, and moaned as he watched the little boy cry.

"Oh yeah, Daddy likey," he slobbered.

He ran to a stage.

"Now I'm going to sing bad anime soundtracks. Everyone is forced to listen to me just like in those past 4,000 original stories spanning decades and featuring the same long haired old man sobbing in underwear archetype with copyrighted canon characters' names slapped on. It's canon, you hypocritical fuckers! You don't know what good writing is, you incompetent self-righteous hacks!"

He ran behind a curtain, eventually coming back clad in a fancy shiny black sequined dress. He pulled out his harpsichord and began to play.

"I'M THE SEWER KING, NOT CRAIG DRAGOTTI, OR DOCTOR ANIMO, OR VINCENT VLADISLAV ARGOST, GIOVANNI, OR PEGASUS," he sang horribly in a flat, hoarse, monotone. "ALL THAT MATTERS IS I'M A GRIZZLED OLD MAN AND I HAVE LONG HAIR AND I'M SUDDENLY TURNED INTO THE UKE AND CRY AT THE DROP OF A HAT AND SHOW OFF MY FIVE DAY OLD UNDIES BECAUSE IT MAKES A MIDDLE AGED WOMAN WHO SPENDS ALL DAY LONG SCREAMING AT CHILDREN IN CARTOON FANDOMS ABOUT HOW MUCH BETTER HER FETISH MARY SUE SELF-INSERTS ARE THAN THEIR STORIES WHICH HAVE ACTUAL EFFORT PUT IN THEM DROP HER PANTIES WHEN SHE WITNESSES THE SUFFERING OF OTHERS WHO'VE BEEN FORCED TO ENDURE HER CONSTANT BITTER EXHIBITIONISM. THAT IS LITERALLY PART OF THE FETISH AND WELL DOCUMENTED. SHE WILL SPAM EVERY WEBSITE THAT HOSTS FANFICTION WITH 9,000,000,000 FICS JUST LIKE THESE, WITH THE NAMES SWAPPED OUT, BUT THE EXACT SAME CONTENT AND TITLES, BECAUSE SHE'S SO MUCH MORE CEATIVE THAN EVERYONE ELSE, AND KEEP ON DOING IT FOR ALL ETERNITY. THAT'S JUST HOW IT BE."

The children screamed in terror, the threat of the light now the furthest thing from their tortured little minds. This punishment was absolutely unbearable. They began to cry. Some vomited. One attempted to slice through his anterior tibial artery with a gardening hoe.

Sewer King slammed his stubby fingers onto the harpsichord, belting out:

"LOOK AT ME! A GREASY MAN-CHILD WHO TORTURES CHILDREN AND FORCES THEM TO DO MY BIDDING SO THAT I MIGHT LIVE MY OWN LIFE IN HEDONISTIC LUXURY. LET'S NOT KID AROUND HERE, FOLKS...AN INFAMOUS 36 YEAR OLD RABID SUETHOR WHO THINKS PUTTING YOUR SELF-INSERT SUES INTO THE BODIES OF CANON CHARACTERS SUDDENLY MAKES YOU NOT A SUETHOR, AND THEREFORE SOMEHOW MAKES THEM BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE, WANTS YOU TO SYMPATHIZE WITH ME FOR NO REASON OTHER THAN THEY'RE PROJECTING THEMSELVES INTO THIS CHARACTER, YET ANOTHER LONG GREASY HAIRED GREEDY ABUSIVE PERSONAL WITH GLASSES WHO THEY CAN TWIST INTO BEING SYMPATHETIC THOUGH THEY ARE MOST CERTAINLY NOT, AND HAVE OPENLY ADMITTED THAT'S ALL THEY WANT FROM THESE FANFICTIONS. BUT, I DIGRESS. KISS MY DIRTY UNDIES! I'LL LOCK YOU UP IN THE TORTURE-RAPE DUNGEONS ONE DAAAAY. I'LL SHAVE YOUR HEAD. I'M A SEX MACHINE, A FUCKING SEX MACHINE, I LOVE BDSM AND YOU WILL TOO, OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU! EVERYONE WHO ISN'T INTO THIS TYPE OF THING IS A VANILLA PUSSY BABY PRUDE BITCH NORMIE. MY CROCODILES ARE JUST DOCTOR D'VOID'S NULL GUARDIANS. SO CLEVER, WE HAVE TO REUSE THE SAME COPY-PASTED IDEAS REPEATEDLY WHILE CALLING EVERYONE ELSE IN THE FANDOM WHO HAS ACTUAL TALENT AND CREATIVITY A BUNCH OF LOSERS. WHOOOOOOAAAA, WHAT A SILLY PREDICAMENT! I WISH I COULD SING! THIS IS HURTING MY OWN EARS MORE THAN ANYTHING. WHOOOAA, OOOH, OOOOAAAH, THAT FEEL WHEN NO GF, ONLY IT'S NO BF, BECAUSE NEVER STICK YOUR DICK IN CRAZY, EVEN IF YOU HAVE A SISSY FETISH AND LIKE CRAZY WOMEN TORTURING AND ABUSING YOU. PEOPLE HAVE LIMITS, NO MATTER HOW DYSFUNCTIONAL THEY ARE. THAT'S WHY THERE'S STILL SO MANY INCELS IN THE FETISH COMMUNITY."

The Sewage King continued to torture everyone in the vicinity because he had nobody to touch his underwear and whip until they bled and bind to a chair and sing bad karaoke at them for hours and he remained involuntarily and bitterly celibate.

The children ran and threw themselves to the crocodiles. They are in a better place now, free. Do not cry for them.

THE END


	32. Pretty Pretty Object

My Pretty Pretty Object  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
More middle aged adults who obsessively play with stuffed toys and keep the company of young, fearful, vulnerable children. Highly entertaining stories, huh. You should completely sympathize with these people, right. That's what the original stories heavily imply, anyhow. Pass the booze.

MY PRETTY PRETTY OBJECT

Sewer King grunted in his vast pile of unwashed laundry. A grimace formed on his pimply face. He stroked a hand over his lengthy beard. Three different brands of chip crumbs tumbled from it. The scent of nubile innocence came to his wretched nose. He sniffed deeply. Mommy was close.

"MOMMY, WHERE'S MY TENDIES," he bellowed. He slammed doughy, ham-like fists down on the floor. "I WANT TENDIES! TENDIES NOW! NOW, NOW, NOW, NOW!"

A terrified 13 year old girl came into the room, hands shaking, a tray of golden brown chicken tenders clutched in her hands. She did not speak. Twas verboten.

"Pretties," the Sewer King said with a leer. His grimy hands grasped for the tray, snatching half a dozen of the fried treats from it. The girl flinched, but stood fixed to the spot, cringing as she watched the filthy man-child stuff his gaping mouth hole with the desired tendies. "TENDIESSSSSSSSS!" the Sewer King hissed and giggled, giggled and chewed, chewed and hissed and giggled. The sound was maddening to sane ears.

A can of week old soda tipped and spilled a river of urine to the ground. The unmanned PS4 droned in the background.

When his greed had been temporarily filled, the Sewer King rolled his mass over to one side, and grabbed a stuffed alligator from the pile of toys next to the reeking laundry.

"Baby boy loves his stuffidies," he said, chunks of half-masticated chicken tenders flowing in a river of grease and saliva down his hairy forested front. The majority of it was soaked into the beard before it reached the end of its journey to his chest. "Baby wuves pwetties. Pwetty, pwetty, PWETTY!" He giggled again and slammed the toy against his heaving moobs, breathing ragged desperate breaths. He rubbed the toy up and down his festering, dirt encrusted body. After he remembered the girl was watching him, he grinned. He saw the nausea and horror lurking just beneath the surface of her solemn expression. His grin faded. "Go away," he snapped at her, making her flinch. "NOW!" he screeched. A wave of sickeningly hot and rancid air hit her face.

The girl fled the room.

The Sewer King farted.

He remembered his past life as a pampered upper class white male living with his mom and dad, who gave him everything he wanted and more. And yet when it came to the internet, he had to pretend he was poor and oppressed to get anyone to take pity on him. No one wanted to give him ass pats and medals for no reason. It made him cry buckets. He deserved to be worshiped for being a disgusting, greedy, and vulgar shit. He was entitled. That is what his comfortable unpringing had showed him. Entitlement.

Mommy told him he was special. Daddy just downed more beer anytime the question came up, although he had agreed Wendell was very special. Special needs. And how. He needed specialness. Every day. Or he would kick the walls in.

The memory faded, leaving him with the current reality of his violent incelibateness. Unlike gifts of food and jewels, no one would voluntarily relinquish their pussy or ass to him. Rage filled him upon learning this bit of basic common sense. How he hated it. He stuffed the stuffed stuffy into his mouth and chewed it while sobbing heavily. Since he had no significant other, he had to make due in another way. No, it wasn't rape. Not yet.

"I'W POTEC U, BABBY!" he wailed through the cotton filled toy. "MUH ONWY BABBY!"

His cat jumped onto the bed. I mean, his alligators.

"I don't care about you," Sewer King said to his living, breathing animal who had once showed him unconditional love despite the wanton cruelty he showed toward it, continuing to focus on the imaginary pet, which could be more easily controlled and did not run away or die when he tortured it for fun.

"You are my fiance now," he whispered to the toy before unzipping his pants.

The pile of stuffed toys, upon closer inspection, were covered in flies and semen, urine and food stains. Most of the hair or fur of these dolls had been shaved off. Several of them were bound by the arms and legs, with gags stuffed into their mouth holes. And numerous had been sliced open at the bellies or had the arms and legs pulled off.

"My One True Love," whispered the Sewer King, beginning to hump the unfortunate doll. "No one can replace you," he said, and grinned widely at the smug deception.

THE END


	33. Craig's Sobbing Karaoke Concert

Craig's Sobbing Karaoke Concert  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Oops, I mean Sewer King's. Or was it Captain Hook? Doctor Animo? Does it even matter when every character is completely interchangeable? The answer is a resounding...nope.

CRAIG'S SOBBING KARAOKE CONCERT

Various children cried and whimpered. They were tied to wooden chairs that had been placed in the middle of the dank sewer area which housed a small stage at the center. On the stage was our hero, the Sewer Queen, decked out in a fabulous black lace dress with fishnet stockings, long gloves, black lipstick, stiletto heeled thigh-high hooker boots, the whole deal. Ribbons hung from his hair which had been done up in long pigtails. It was very J-Rock meets Vocaloid. He was smiling and sobbing while he grasped a mic in one hand and pointed at his literal captive audience with the other.

"YOU CAN'T ESCAPE FROM ME, NOT EVER. MY EX LEFT ME, THAT FUCKING BITCH. NOW I'M PUNISHING YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU," he sang. Badly.

He ran back to his harpsichord that made numerous cameo appearances in the other half dozen stories just like this one. The playing wasn't much better despite the number of times we've already done it throughout the years. He began to sob hysterically as he sang. He was thinking about his Mummy. Constantly. Obsessively. No correlation. He didn't quite grasp the concept of emotions and so had to fetishize them into what he assumed were normal emotions for sane people, AKA the gross little Normies.

He sobbed and sobbed. It was hilarious and very reminiscent of every other fic like this that has ever been written in the past that just so happened to feature evil and hygienically challenged old man with long hair whomst the Suethor who wrote this drivel projects both themselves into and designates a canon Mary Sue female, or sometimes less frequently a male, to be the side piece so that they can assert this pairing is One and True, and scream at the haters. GASP. Oh wait, this is type. Extended blinking of the eye to conserve moisture and a pause of the fingers to allow the muscles to rest. Never forget to take periodic breaks for both health and sanity.

"This will go on FOREVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER and EVEEEEEEEEEER!"

Until the fandom collectively ignores the spam and bait long enough so our dear unfortunate Suethor has to jump ship back to a new fandom who'll give her shitty cuckold fetish OCs poorly disguised as canon characters some attention. Yet again. For the next three to seven years. I wish I was kidding. Alas...nay.

"THIS ISN'T BORING! YOU'RE JUST A BUNCH OF HYPOCRITICAL FUCKERS WHO DON'T WATCH THE SHOW OR KNOW AN INTERESTING PLOT WHEN YOU SEE IT!" sobbed the Sewer Craig before he collapsed.

He cried so hard, he shit his pants. Sorry, it's tradition.

"I just can't have nice things!" he wailed. "I blame everyone else but myself for this recurring situation. I refuse to change my behavior so that people might enjoy my company instead of running away screaming. I have never been wrong in my life. YOU ARE THE BAD PEOPLE! I AM FUCKING PERFECT! It's not a clear sign of a Cluster B disorder where the accussee is projecting their own incredible obvious insecurities onto everyone else around them at the slightest bit of unease."

And he was left there for hours, sobbing in a pool of his own filth, bitter and alone.

Thankfully, no one gave a shit which weakened him significantly and failed to lure in new captives for him to control and abuse.

THE END


	34. Another Null Guardian Dies

Another Null Guardian Dies  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Whoops, I mean an alligator. Seriously though, how do you keep track of these things when they're completely interchangeable. What they are does not matter in the slightest and can be substituted for anything with ZERO impact to the story. That's not a sign of quality. That's not only a sign of clearly poor writing but also laziness. Laziness and stagnant creativity, AKA the things you don't want to have when you go around accusing everyone else of being bad writers with no creativity who all just copy things over and over.

ANOTHER NULL GUARDIAN DIES

Doctor Animo, also known once as D'Void, and the equally ridiculous Ant King, scowled the scowliest scowl he ever scowled. And then his name changed to the Sewer King.

He sobbed heavily as he pet his pet alligator, which was no longer a Null Guardian, and don't you dare look up the author Pink Rose Garden to discover these are all the same copyfics from the days of yore once squirted into the Ben 10 fandom that are now replaced with different character's names, just like the ones from before then in five dozen other fandoms. Don't you even dare.

Basically they involve character A dying so character B can sob. Sometimes they turn into ghosts and get reunited in Heaven. And repeat. One thousand times.

That's it. That's all. That's the jist of it.

I honestly miss the traumatic sobbing death torture murder-suicide hilariously fake-gay romances where the man with long hair was obviously a stand in for the absent female character, and the shippee called everyone else who didn't think the crackist OOC pairing in the world was indisputably canon big mean homophobes, despite them having no problem with gay pairings in general, unlike the shippee, who, somewhat ironically, but really to no surprise at all, was revealed to be a violent homophobe who assumed all gay males are submissive and also desire anal rape and being forcibly pregnant because they're just like women, only more inferior. Essentially cumdumpsters. With slightly more cock in ass and boxer shorts rubbing and no concept of biological or anatomical reality whatsoever.

Make of that what you will. If you can at all. It was a rough ride simply to recall it.

"We suffer together because I have no significant other to share my murder-suicide pact with," the Sewer King wailed. "Much like Doctor D'Void, there isn't an easily designated female Mary Sue canon character to ship me with. So I'm wingin' it again, until I discover a passable desperation ship or break down once again and form a creepy obsessive-stalker bond with an explicitly female baby alligator who I call my own daughter and provide with an insane amount of special attention that doesn't immediately out her as the Mary Sue in my warped mind and no one else's. Also she cries exactly like a human infant. Not a Sue, bitches. Don't you dare suggest." Don't you fucking do it. If you do, you are automatically the Suethors. Somehow.

He burst into loud sobs and huggled his alligator, rubbing its nose.

"This is completely canon," he whimpered. "I'm a good daddy who wuvs his cuddle-huggies. Boo boo doo doo poo poo." He suckled his thumb loudly. A diaper appeared on his hindquarters. Whether it was full or not is up to you, the audience. You will be judged accordingly. You're already being judged for reading this shit instead of doing something constructive with your short lives.

The plot device kiddies showed up when they were required by the plot, and never before. They don't do anything else and have no significance other than this.

"PRETTIES, PRETTIES!" screamed the Sewer King.

They recoiled in horror before quickly dumping stuffed animals into a pile at the Sewer King's feet.

"YES, GIVE ME MORES TOYS! I WANT MORE TOYS! More, MORE, MORE!" He let out a mad peal of laughter. "And get me some buffalo wings! With Pepsi!"

They fled once again instead of doing the morbidly reprehensible Stockholm business the Suethor wanted to have them doing, like every unfortunate prop character who falls into these psychological horrorshows and demands the audience eel sorry for the sadistic greedy evil pervert who's a not so secret stand in for the Suethor herself in lieu of a random female character, as was mentioned on multiple occasions. It is essentially incelibate narcissist abuser propaganda. In fanfic format. Spammed down your unfortunate throat on a weekly basis for two to seven years. Deconstructed by yours truly out of sheer boredom.

Sewer King returned to sobbing hysterically over his alligator who was dying of mysterious plot illness yet again. But it's okay. It would turn into a ghost alligator. Always.

Happy endings for all. Except not.

THE END


	35. Old Men With Long Hair Crying

Old Men With Long Hair Crying In Their Underwear  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
That's it. That's the whole fetish. But posted separately 4,900 times. Unironically.

OLD MEN WITH LONG HAIR CRYING IN THEIR UNDERWEAR

Old Man With Long Hair Who Cries In His Underwear, also known sometimes as The Weeper, wandered aimlessly around a deserted Gotham city. All other characters had been removed so the story could be sufficiently dumbed down to a second grade level. That might be a bit insulting to the second grader's level of intelligence. Sorry.

"I weep. That's my thing," said the Weeper. "Good thing I also have long hair or this person wouldn't touch me with a fifty foot pole, like they won't touch any of the other dozens of characters from this series. Sad that out of this magnificent three season series, featuring a wealth of storylines and characters, some popular and many obscure, this is the only character who will be given any attention, simply for the fact that I am an old man with long hair who cries. Emphasizing that point, as always, because it's always a recurring one. Fun fact."

What the fuck even is this fetish.

Cuckold pedophile incest threesome. But more often with the incest removed. You know. For SJW safety points. They can't call you a hypocrite if you poorly hide the fact that you've engaged in everything you claim to hate everyone else for supporting. That's how it works, right?

"To make things worse, nobody's going to delve into my past history or attempt giving me more depth as a character," weeped the Weeper, "or write me doing anything else of any significance that does not involve sobbing hysterically. Nope. My character as a whole does not matter in the slightest. Not the canonical fact that I mourn my murder victims, drive a hearse, and have henchweeps called the Bittermen, or that I can't stand seeing people happy and yet hate to witness them suffering. I'm just here for the sole fact that I sob, period. And that I have long hair. That is all. We're also going to magically have the same typical tragic bullshit my-genetic-clone-parents-died-of-unknown-causes thing, boo hoo, because I just cry now, not because shit is sad but because I deserve sympathy for crying buckets. Feel bad for evil man who cries nonstop projectile tears." He began crying harder, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. "What a waste of words."

The Weeper tripped over his parent's graves and saw a bunch of other old men with long hair sobbing at gravestones. He was quite taken aback.

"Uh, who the heck are you? And what are you all doing here? Am I interrupting some kind of weird cult meeting?"

Yeah, pretty much.

The men turned around. They looked him up and down.

"Did your parents die of mysterious illnesses too?" asked a man with long white hair who was wearing black goggles with red lenses. He smelled like a rank zoo at highest noon.

"Did your parents look like exact clones of you, but dressed in black for maximum emo-goth-Japanophile?" asked another man who appeared to be an 18th century pirate, his white hair styled up like a powdered wig. One hand was missing, replaced with an iron hook. He kind of looked that pirate guy from those Peter Pan stories with white hair instead of black and much more muscular.

"Did everyone from your related franchise mysteriously disappear, leaving only three characters who all fit the same suspicious template of a cuckold threesome porno scene, and every other character was an obvious background prop in every story?" asked yet another man who looked more like a monkey or some kind of ancient ape-humanoid with yellow eyes. He, like all the others, had white hair that was quite long, and was dressed in black with a flowing blue leather hide cape accentuated by fur trim.

"Do you always play with stuffed toys, sob, and consume large amounts of chocolate cake, and find yourself unable to do anything else?" asked a timid looking robed man with shoulder length gray hair. Large ornate earrings dangled from his earlobes.

"Did you get the rape dungeons yet?" snarled a man who had shoulder length white hair and very sharp eyes and pointy chin, dressed in gray-purple uniform. "Because I don't want any of that shit anymore."

The Weeper began to weep harder. "Oh, lord. Why me? How sad life is! How terribly sad!" He began the traditional shriek-sobbing uncontrollably.

Hey, pal, thought you enjoyed being miserable.

"WHY US?" sobbed the rest of the victims who all happened to share the same traits someone around here loves to fetishize and thinks nobody will ever see the pattern when they try to declare this all canon, haters do not challenge.

Yes, it's canon now.

Every one of these characters is an incessant sobbing man-child with critical narcissism and deep-seated abandonment issues who sobs all day long and then dies and there's ghosts and, uh..vampires and BDSM rape dungeons...and kittens and karaoke and chocolate cake and massive infantilism. With loads of underwear sissy humiliation. And the crying. And babies. And pining over exes and parents feeding you vegetables instead of chocolate and denying expensive toys as abuse. Luckily no pissing into mouths, but who knows. That might happen in public if they break down enough. God help us all.

If you refuse to believe it, prepare your anuses for the passive-aggressive insults saying you've never watched a single episode of INSERT SHOW HER and also are probably pedophiles and Mary Suethors, unlike the actual pedophile Mary Suethor. Your fandom will be spammed daily with more repeating copy-paste bullshit. Somehow this keeps on going, years and years later, without changing in the slightest, outside of names.

What cringe.

At least the yaoi stuff was funny. Somewhat ironically, it also brought more views. Food for thought.

THE END


	36. Makes Them Easier To Copy

Not Changing The Story Titles Makes Them Easier To Copy  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Original story, do not copy, you uncreative plagiarists who don't know how to write. I'm not saying this because I'm totally jealous of your ability to write versus my own lack of ability. Do not possibly put 2 and 2 together and realize I myself have been copying and plagiarizing while calling everyone else in the fandom hypocrites who have so few idea, they need to steal off everyone else. I assume you are too stupid to notice anyway.

NOT CHANGING THE STORY TITLES MAKES THEM EASIER TO COPY

We join our weepman, the Weeper, ignoring the fuck out of The Joker and anyone else who isn't designated cream cheese background fodder to be puppeted any way le Suethor sees fit, wandering Gotham for hours because who wants to write an actual plot that's in any way entertaining. That's for suckers. Now let's scream harder about how everyone ignores our fantastic fanfiction. This is genius level literature, folks. George RR Martin, eat your fucking heart out.

Somewhere, Stephenie Meyer shuddered, then burst into riotous laughter.

"There wasn't a story to write," said the Weeper before he burst into delicious tears. "So I'm just gonna sit here and cry until the other plot device shows up."

He cried for hours until a vast puddle formed around him.

A kitten, take a drink and put a checkmark on the list, showed up and happily drank from the puddle.

"Oh boy, the cat fetish has arrived," said the Weeper. He pet the cat. "This isn't the most blatant gratuitous and reoccuring author appeal in the world over the past five or seven years. No one notices yet, right? Surely not. " Nobody notices the constant underwear exposing and hysterical sobbing either. Thank God we don't have to count in rape and watersports for now. He pulled the cat into his lap and continued to stroke its back as it purred while wishing he had some chocolate cake and Pepsi.

Batman showed up. "Everyone hates my Diedrich Bader voice," he said gruffly, in the voice that took ages for anyone in the fandom to adapt to, and some never did, before the kitten jumped into his muscular arms. "Batman, up, up, and awaaaaaaaaaay!"He grappled up and away with the happy kitty under his crazed vigilante protection and was not seen for quite some time after this despite being a prominent main character. Hint: It's because the person writing all these shitty self-insertion fetish fics has no interest in the Batman franchise as a whole, just three interchangeable characters for entirely porn related reasons, and it shows.

The Weeper began scream-crying. "MY ONLY MEANS OF COMPANIONSHIP! BATMAN, YOU DICKHOLE! I'LL NEVER GET OVER THIS!" It was an evident truth.

His pants fell down, exposing his ducky print undies, and he cried some more on the ground, pounding his fists and feet on the pavement.

"MOMMAH! MOMMAH! COME AND MAKE BABY-BOO FEEL BETTER! TELL ME I'M SPECIAL FOR BEING POSITIVELY MUNDANE AND UNABLE TO GRASP BASIC HUMAN CONCEPTS!"

But there was no momma, and that's why he was even more sad. He began to suck his thumb while wishing he could fuck Batgirl. Or as he liked to call her...Isabella.

"Hell, you could just call her Vagina, because that fits, seeing how all female characters are brainless sluts who can only sob and obsess over babies and who crave a dominant man to abuse them and misinterpret that as love or romance in every other story like this one," said Brother Sasha. I mean Weeper. He shrugged.

Batgirl showed up, falling flat on her face in the middle of the street because she no longer knew how to do anything that required the slightest amount of intelligence. Thus was the fate of all female characters in this universe. Rape and graphic torture so a man can sob over their repetitive death notwithstanding, luckily. At least there hasn't been a random freak blizzard avalanche stolen from Pokémon: Birth of MewTwo. She picked herself up, thew out her arms and yelled, "TA-DA! I'm a lamp!" She noticed Weeper, standing there, looking all sexy. "Hey, Mister. Wanna see what I can do?" She jammed her fist into her mouth and began sucking it.

Weeper's wrinkly old man meat sprang to attention. "Holy shit, that's amazing! We should fuck because I'm a man and you're a woman. Nothing else matters."

Batgirl gasped, her eyes becoming the size of dinner plates. "We totally should! Except people will yell because that's taboo and we're pretending to be superior to all the other heavily implied degenerates in the fandom thanks to the narcissism making our hypocrisy stand out, so we're just gonna have to smack our underwear covered butts together instead of putting naughties in each other to make kawaii malformed Sue babbys, okay?" she said.

"Okay," said Weeper.

They stripped to their underwear and began slamming their butts together while chanting "THIS IS HOT, THIS IS SO HOT! YEAH!"

And then buffalo hot wings and fries rained down from the sky.

THE END


	37. I Smell An OTP

I Smell An OTP  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Just ship them already. You know you want to. It's not like everyone doesn't see your past and present hypocrisy, so who are you trying to fool?

I SMELL AN OTP

Spider-Woman, I mean, Batgirl, our newly designated lamp, interchangeable object who didn't matter to the story at all, appeared while the main lust object, The Weeper, AKA Craig the world's worst mafia boss Dragotti, also sometimes called The Sewer King, but never The Joker, thank God, the fandom would have eaten everyone involved alive, was wandering the empty streets of Gotham for the fourth or fifth time, damn. Try not to notice this amazing setup for an amazing fanfiction, folks. It's only happened ten billion times over the past thousand years.

"I'm really quite sexy if you squint," said the Weeper, thrusting out his womanly old man hips. "Yes, someone is flicking their highly incelibate bean to my toothless mouth just due to my hair and the fact that I cry without having to force that into the story somehow and call it canon. I just do it naturally. So it is technically canon. That's what my character was based upon. And yet the way it's executed still makes it OOC, as usual. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU EVEN DO THAT? HOW DO YOU FAIL SO CONSISTENTLY? WITH A CHARACTER WHO ACTUALLY CRIES IN CANON? HOW? This fetish cannot be executed without the utmost failure."

"El oh hell, Batprobe," Batgirl gigled stupidly. "In the butt! By the way, Mister, I'm gonna kick you, mean bad guy who is cute enough to still be Daddy material because I have no standards!" The standards are long hair. And specifically light blue boxer shorts.

She danced over to Weeper. She snapped her fingers rhythmically.

Weeper began to cry on command. "Did you ever see a woman so beautiful, you cried?" he asked her.

Batboobs gasped and immediately fell in love.

"Wowie, there isn't even a story here," said Batgirl. "Let's make out with each other while I touch your old man underwear!"

"Sounds hot," said Weeper through his sexually provocative tears. "I'm a sissy boy. I'll sub for you all night long!"

"Oh, fucking yeah, baby!" Batgirl ripped off her suit. Underneath was a dominatrix outfit, but white instead of standard black, and with purple trim. No correlation to SC3's Ivy Valentine, swear. "Lies!" Batgirl giggled. She pulled out a whip and began to whip the Weeper's clothes off until nothing remained but his BRIGHT BLUE BOXER SHORTS. "Bend over for Momma, dirty boy!"

"Mommy!" Weeper weeped. He had finally found a new mommy. Batgirl started kicking him in the ass and whipping him. He enjoyed every minute of it. "Yes, spank me, Mommy! I've been a bad widdle boy! I didn't eat my veggies! All I eat is candy and chocolate! That's why most of my teeth fell out! I'll never eat veggies!"

"I'll make you eat my veggies! They're mushrooms that've been growing in my feminine area for weeks. I don't shower regularly," she said.

The Weeper turned to the camera like he was in The Office and made an O face. Not the one you're thinking of.

Batgirl grinned. "I've also got some nice squash soup." She turned and pointed to her ass.

This story has been declared unfit for continuing and so shall be ended right here before someone gets arrested for indecency.

THE END


	38. Again With The Kitties

Again With The Kitties  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
We get it. You have cats. You also have a clear obsession with cats. Among other very loudly repeatedly announced things.

AGAIN WITH THE KITTIES

Batlampgirl wandered aimlessly, mindlessly, without purpose. She shrugged and decided to look around for thugs to fight. The only person who existed in Gotham besides herself was not too suspiciously, The Weeper.

"I hate that guy," she muttered. "But also for some sickening reason, I find myself violently attracted to him. I don't know why."

It's because you're a soulless fanfiction puppet, silly. Bound to the disgusting whims of an enraged Suethor who can't create inventive Mary Sues or write canon characters in character but loves to whine about these being a plague on fandom which consistently spawns from everyone else but them.

"Wow. Even I can see that is some massive lack of self-awareness, and I have no functional brain cells in this universe," said Batgirl.

Batgirl tripped on a kitty.

"ADORABLE KITTEH!" she screamed, grabbing the hissing, spitting animal by the tail. It struggled and attempted to claw her stupidly smiling face. She held it securely. "You'll be my new friend forever. FOR-EV-UR!"

On cue, the Weeper appeared in front of her in a puff of smoke.

"Damn, did you see that?" he asked. "I have teleportation powers."

"Look! I have a kitteh," Batgirl said in a childish voice. She shoved the kitten at him.

"It's ADORABLE!" He ran over to her. "Let me pet it?" the Weeper urged.

Batgirl held the kitten away from him, acting possessive and selfish, the only way of life she knew. "No! My kitteh. It only loves me!" The kitten continued to yowl and scratch at its harasser. "See how much it loves me?"

The Weeper burst into hysterical sobs. "I WANT TO PET THE KITTEH!"

"MY KITTEH!" Batgirl screamed.

They both bawled at each other for an hour before Batgirl kicked the Weeper, kicking being the only move she knew how to do. What is with spergs and kicking? Is it because they know they severely lack upper body musculature? Is it because all their weight is collected in the hindquarters and this gives them the only real balance while standing, meaning to risk a punch would mean to topple? Who knows.

"I love kittehs!" Batgirl declared.

Kittens began to rain from the sky.

The moral of this story is...kitties.

That's it.

"What about underwear?" Weeper asked woozily as he raised up his head.

"NO!" Batgirl screamed, and threw an enraged kitten at his face.

He shrieked and screamed and sobbed as the kitty began to shred his face meat, eventually dropping his pants and stumbling around in his underwear. Ha ha, public underwear based humiliation as a source of comedy.

"Not so secretly, I get off to it," Batgirl laughed before she tilted her head back and orgasmed.

In reality, all she did was push out a fart. But since she had failed Sex Ed, she couldn't tell the difference.

"OOOOH MYYYY GOOOOOD," Batgirl screamed, vibrating with presumed orgasmic force, off into the moonlit night.

THE END


	39. Sobbing Underwear Karaoke Old Man Yaoi

Mommy Daddy Baby Ghost Vampire Sobbing Underwear Karaoke Old Man Yaoi  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Further down the rabbit hole we go.

MOMMY DADDY BABY GHOST VAMPIRE SOBBING UNDERWEAR KARAOKE OLD MAN YAOI

A dress-clad Sewer King burst into tears at his concert marathons with expensive stuffed kittens gathered around his stage. No one else would listen to his monotone shrieking, meaning he had to improvise. Since he was bad at improvisation, he just did the same thing he always did. After getting bored, he traveled out of the safety of his musty bedroom. He got injured from a trap while trying to play a game of freeze tag and cried for hours.

He decided to go above ground to look for his Mommy, who would surely find him a new girlfriend to fuck and refer to them fucking as a platonic friendship, hoping a random summer blizzard would bury them together after they'd fucked a lot in the same bedroom while Mommy watched.

The Sewer King wandered Gotham to have some mischief. He dragged his trademark karaoke fantasy green screen behind him, should the need for an out of place Japanese rock rose garden or cemetery backdrop arise. He smiled due to being a rotten piece of shit who cared only about himself, assumed the world revolved around him, and got off to manipulating anyone around him to do his bidding while he stole from them and called them losers and pedophiles behind their backs. Deeply he dreamed of seeing Harley Quinn in a burn unit due to the Joker abusing her. Secretly, he shipped it. He wished Harley would leave the Joker for him, who he believed to be the clearly better relationship choice. He loathed Joker for being popular while he was not.

"What do those idiots see in that ugly clown? He's a sadistic prick!" muttered the Sewer King as he wandered the empty streets aimlessly, as everyone did. "I'm going to be fine! I've moved on!" It was a hilarious neverending lie.

He paused, clutching his karaoke mic to his chest while his lip trembled. His pants fell down for no reason, exposing his boxer shorts. Tears streamed down his face.

"Oh no! Male sissy humiliation!" He cried harder and blushed brightly. He refused to ever be happy from that moment on.

He continued to obsessively think about traps and waifus, sleeping and eating, and vampires and ghosts and babies.

"I wish I was a vampire. I love Twilight," he said to himself. "Ghosts are also neato torpedo. I enjoy the concept of babies because I adore the thought of being perpetually nfantalized and coddled and cared for on a daily basis where I never have to do anything for myself and have no responsibilities in life. Conversely, I enjoy seeing women in pain, suffering, humiliated, captured, and being reduced to objects for consumption and usage, then discarded when finished. Every time I cry, someone will come running. But as for actual babies or children, they sicken me. I hate the fact that those little creatures take any form of attention away from myself. I have 4,444 original thoughts in my head. They aren't stolen from other sources and repeatedly copied. There's no proof of this. Can not refute. Nope. Don't even try. Now I'm going to start dressing in purple clothing and dye my hair green. Not in the futile hopes of stealing popularity from another character, I swear. I invented that look all by myself, you see. Haters! Hypocrites! You don't even care about canon!"

The Sewer King ran all the way back home and jumped into his bed, grabbing a very expensive stuffed alligator to cry on. He broke down in further tears after his laptop broke when he threw it against the wall. So he made the kids in his gainless employ run out and get new ones. He sobbed hysterically while remembering he didn't have a girlfriend anymore and couldn't get one easily because they could smell him a mile away, unlike over Tinder, where he could trick a few. Never for very long. It made him so angry. Angreh.

"This is everyone else's fault," he growled. "Especially Batman's, but especially the Joker's. I loathe him! Only perverts like characters like the Joker. People who have never watched Batman a day in their lives like the Joker as a character. Fools! Unlike myself, who is the best character and unfairly underrated. Besides, they only like Joker due to his popularity. And everyone always writes him so OOC! And yet those stories are always loved while mine are ignored when they're 100% completely in character! I just can't have nice things!"

Enraged, the Sewer King let out a mighty fart. He ripped ass so hard, it killed one of his alligators. He sobbed over the corpse for an hour.

He called up his Goth outfit clone grandma, The Sewer Granny, and asked if he could borrow her BDSM dungeon.

"Only if I can gum your little boy lollipop all night long," she slobbered through the phone. "Lucky you, my dentures fell out again!"

"Shit, Granny, on second thought...I'll pass," groaned the Sewer King. He slammed the phone down and cried some more. "If I can't get a girlfriend, I'LL FUCKING KIDNAP ONE!"

Sewer King set out to do this task. He wandered for hours until he came to a lighted house where he peered through the window. There was a baby female inside. He got excited when he saw that she was all tarted up like Toddlers and Tiaras.

In a shocking twist, it turned out to be a grown woman known as Mary Louise Dahl.

"You mean I can get away with pedo without getting called out on it because technically she's like thirty seven years old but has that body? Hot damn!" cried the Sewer King.

He came in through the window. Baby Doll turned around, gasping. Upon closer inspection, Sewer King discovered that she was dressed more frumpily than he had first assumed, and resembled a little old granny more than an overly feminine and slightly whored up infant.

"Hey, wait. You're not hot! Why, dare I say YOU'RE UGLY! I HAVE BEEN DECEIVED! DISTRESS!" he shouted, trembling fiercely.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you in my house?" Baby Doll demanded.

"I'm the Sewer King and I'm your newly designated fanfic boyfriend," he said, picking his nose and wiping it on his blouse. "I have to make due with what I'm given. There's not a lot of quality piece of ass selection around here in the ways of author appeal shipping interests. I got a tiny handful of recurring characters to pick from, you know?"

"Boyfriend? Since when? This is news to me," Baby Doll said grumpily.

"Since whatever I want, I get, li'l bitch puddin'," said Sewie.

"Sheesh! I thought me and Killer Croc had more of a chemistry, fucked up as it was. Crockles was my brief but canon OTP. It didn't work out so well." She pointed at the greasy man. "Look, weirdo, I don't just date guys who smell like shit and live in the sewer. Me and Croc actually had that whole social outcasts because we look like freaks thing going on. Our weird looks are inherently genetic and make us vaguely sympathetic from a certain point of view. You can just take a shower and trim your hair. And, you know. Not live in a sewer forcing kids to do your bidding, all screaming and shrieking to get your way and just being an outright obnoxious fucko all day long."

"Son of a whore! Now Killer Croc is more popular than me? First Joker, now this scaley asshole. People in this fandom really have no standards! Anyway, Killer Croc must die," screamed the Sewer King.

Baby Doll stared at him, lifting a carefully plucked brow. "Hey, crazy-pants. Did you even listen to anything I said?"

Sewer King grabbed his head and shook it. "No, no, no! I don't listen to other people! All I want a new submissive baby. You're the little girl to my daddy dom and sometimes fem dom, depending on the context, therefore you shut up and let me spankie! Do what I want, now! Now, now, NOW!" He stomped his foot repeatedly.

Baby Doll grimaced. "That kind of thing is only funny when I do it to signify how mentally damaged I am! By the way, I don't do it 24/7, dude. Everything in moderation."

Sewer King burst into uncontrolled sobs. "I don't understand moderation. I am compelled to do everything to frenzied hedonistic excess. I drank a 2 liter of Pepsi all by myself seven minutes ago. Which reminds me." He whipped out a large cup. "FILL UP SIPPY SIPPY, MOMMY! NOW, NOW, NOW!" He began to scream and pound his fist against the wall.

"And I thought I was whiny when I didn't get my own way," Baby Doll muttered. "Sheesh."

She walked over and slapped the Sewage Cretin's face. He gasped and whimpered, shocked at such defiance of his petty whims.

"Baby needs to teach daddy a lesson! Baby hates it when people treat her like she's too dumb to understand what's going on," said Baby Doll in her baby girl voice which was more threatening than sexy. "Baby might look like this, but she can't stands pedophiles, and she can't stands child abusers! Especially ones who smells like major swamp ass!" She held her nose and made a face of disgust.

"Your new design is stupid," Sewer King said to her casually. "You looked better as a rogue Animaniac's character."

Baby Doll grabbed one of her stuffed toys which looked like a crocodile. Sewer King got excited for a moment, before he noticed it had the barrel of a gun hidden inside the mouth when it opened with a whimsical squeak. She opened fire, shooting Sewer King in each of his knees. He screamed and fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

"You bitch! You shot out my kneecaps!"

Baby Doll grinned crazily. "I didn't mean to! Actually, I did." Then she ran off. She came back seconds later with a baseball bat. She swung the bat, knocking the King's lights out. "Daddy go night-night!"

Sewer King woke up tied to the dungeon walls.

"Oh, shit!" he cried, offended. "Does everyone but me have the torture-rape dungeon? So unfair!" He struggled against the multiple chains.

Baby Doll came into the chamber, pushing a steel cart on wheels. The surface was littered with various instruments of torture, many of them cock and ball related.

"Daddy and Baby gonna have lots and lots of fun!" she cooed.

"END THE STORY, END THE STORY!" pleaded the Sewer King.

The story did not end.

"You're a dirty, dirty, naughty man! You want to see Baby's upskirt underwear peekies!" Baby Doll said freakishly with a twinkle in her eye.

"No, you want to see MY upskirt underwear peekies!" the Sewer King said. "Admit it!"

"Ew, no way!" Baby Doll insisted before the story bitch slapped her with yet another round of fetish parody. She gasped and looked ready to puke and shit herself at the same time. Then she relaxed. All coherant thoughts had ceased. "Yes, now that I think about it, which is to say I no longer think about anything other than underwear exposure, sobbing, daddy issues, and rape, yes, I do want to see your underwear! Give baby peekies!"

She ran up and ripped off the Sewer King's pants until she saw his gross unwashed boxer shorts which were specifically light blue in color and had little cartoon alligators on them.

"Kawaii ne," Baby Doll said with far too much excitement in her creepy voice. "Now I'm going to whip and abuse you while you sob and beg me to stay with you for all eternity."

She did, for roughly an hour, but Sewer King didn't beg her to stay. In fact, he really wanted her to leave. On the nearest plane to Venezuela, preferably.

"Please," the Sewer King whimpered, coughing up five gallons of blood yet somehow remaining alive. Fanfic logic. "Whatever you do, don't injure my baby daughter, Sewer Princess!"

Baby Doll tilted her head to one side, not understanding what that meant until she fished around in the Sewer King's pant's pocket. She gasped when she found a squirming baby alligator in there. The female baby alligator began to cry exactly like a human infant. And it was incredibly fucking loud. All the thing did was shriek-sob and demand attention every waking moment.

"NO, NOT MY SCREAMY-SOBBY-BOO-BOO II: MARY SUE ELECTRIC BOOGALOO!" wailed the Sewer King. "All copyrights reserved and it doesn't count if the Mary Sue isn't human."

"Baby is jealous! Baby will tear this baby apart so Precious will love her instead from now on, and for all eternity!" Baby Doll shrieked.

She slammed the baby alligator down on the table and raised up a knife. Slowly she began to shave off all the long white hair.

"Now you're ugly and no one will love you anymore!" Baby Doll glared at the Sewer King. "Wait, why does an alligator have hair? She is too a Mary Sue, you big fat liar!"

"She is not! How dare you!" screamed the Sewer King. He began to cry. "All I care about is myself, really. I'm crying because I'm not the constant center of attention. The baby is a plot device that can be easily abused and die so the audience can get off to me sobbing hysterically and sympathize with me. I assume!"

"Uh, yeah, that's pretty fucked up here," said Baby Doll, a hammer raised above the squirming reptile's head. "So what...this torture sequence is overall pointless because you don't really love this thing and it's just a plot device?"

The Sewer King nodded. "Yup. That Sue is completely interchangeable. I'll get three more by the time you're done killing that one."

Defeated, Baby Doll threw the shrieking thing into the nearby pool of water. It swam around and never stopped crying throughout the background. It made Baby Doll start sobbing uncontrollably. Now all of them were sobbing nonstop, for hours. No story transpired within this time frame. Just shrieking-crying.

Finally Baby Doll stopped crying for two seconds. She picked up an electric razor. "I'll shave Daddy's head! Then no one will love you!" She advanced toward him with the device.

He shrieked, knowing it was true. Nobody would love him without his hair.

"Oh NO, MY POWER!" he shrieked the shriekiest shriek and screamed.

"BYE-BYE DADDY!" Baby Doll pounced. She shaved the King bald. She laughed until she recoiled at the sight of his snow white scalp. "Holy shit, you got the worst dandruff I have ever seen on a human being!" She covered her mouth and gagged.

The Sewer King sobbed and sobbed, and sobbed some more. "I'm hideous! Now nobody cares about me!" And it was true. Nobody did. Rabid fans are somewhat predictably the most shallow.

"Hair gone, lust gone," moaned the Sewer King.

He died and turned into a ghost-vampire who sang karaoke in the void for all eternity and viciously defended Japan from any criticism because he was a giant fucking weeaboo.

Baby Doll got back together with her precious Crocky-Wockles even though he tried to chuck her into a turbine and shred her to bloody pieces. She couldn't resist an abusive male who outright rejected her love and affection and somehow slept with hookers on the side even though he had a severe skin condition. Guess money really can buy people to do anything you want them to.

"I can change him. I'm going to be the one who changes him!" she declared.

She was eventually eaten and part of her body was found in the Gotham river. Your imagination decides what part.

Sewer King remained chained to the dungeon walls until he was on the verge of starvation when a small child showed up.

"Please, free me from these chains, child," he begged.

The child shook their head and threw some bricks at his urine stained crotch.

"AH, YOU LITTLE FUCKER, I'LL BITE YOUR ASS CHEEKS OFF!"

The child screamed and ran away.

"This isn't the way I wanted to suffer," he weeped.

Suddenly an old man with long hair showed up. He was sobbing. His face was pressed into a handkerchief. He saw the fallen Sewer King chained to the wall. "Oh, a person who has seen much suffering. I'll free you because I can't stand seeing anyone in pain unless I've caused it." He released the Sewer King.

"Oh Thank GOD, I thought I was gonna die here in this fetid shithole where there might be evil crocodile men with grudges lurking around," the Sewer King said.

"You can thank me by slobbering on my knob. That's how people show love and gratitude to each other, I presume despite my age," said the Weeper. He grinned toothlessly.

When Sewer King was done gagging over the terrible thought, he looked offended to the extreme. "EXCUSE YOU! I would never fuck you sexually, you lunatic!"

"Why not? We're both hot old men with long hair and we cry. Why the fuck aren't we the designated OTP?" Weeper demanded to know.

"Uh, hellooooooooo," Sewer King said while waving his arms. "It just isn't kosher. You're a dude. I'm a dude."

"So? What's ever stopped that type of ship? Are you homophobic?" Weeper gave him a challenging look.

Sewer King was about to say yes when he realized it would look bad on his part. So he tried to make up some excuses. "No, but you can be shipped with me because we both have long hair. Who's the uke, I ask you? WHO'S THE UKE?"

"Just because two men have long hair doesn't mean you suddenly can't make them super gay yaoi together, you fucking weeb," the Weeper wept before bursting into tears. "Not everything has to involve hetero power imbalances!"

"Oh yeah! Well what if I fetishize those implied power imbalances that don't even exist in a healthy relationship!" Sewer King screamed.

"Well then, I guess we'll both be alone forever and virginal instead of solving our problem. And then we'll die! Alone and as virgins!" said the Weeper.

"Fine then!" Sewer King turned his back to him. Literally.

"FINE THEN!" Weeper faced away from his confusingly implied clone from another universe.

They stood there in the darkness for exactly one hour.

Meanwhile, the shrieking-sobbing baby alligator Sue you thought was forgotten by the plot was still there, making ear-splitting noise. It crawled out of the pool of dank diseased water and over to the bickering old men's legs. It sunk its teeth into the Weeper's leg. He screamed and cried. The Sewer King laughed.

"Ha ha! My annoying Mary Sue baby is going to eat you alive while I watch and snicker and enjoy your pain and suffering and tears," said the Sewer King gleefully, dancing around from one foot to the other. "Too bad you don't come bundled with any trademark animal companions!"

"Surprise, bitch!" Weeper said, pulling a tarantula from a hidden coat pocket. He threw it into the Sewer King's face.

They both screamed until they died from the animal attacks.

Batgirl showed up and didn't do anything significant to the plot. She simply laughed and pointed and then forgot what she was doing and wandered away again, trying to find the exit of the sewer. Batman had to come looking for her and rescue her because she was just that dumb now. She wouldn't stop crying until he took her out for ice cream.

Mmm, ice cream.

THE END


	40. Extra Stupidity

_I LOVE YOUR WORK PANTS-KUN DESU NOTICE ME SEMPAI ONEGAISHIMASU - Altered_Genome97_

No.

* * *

Extra Stupidity  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
The same thing you've seen before, only dumber and with more budding obvious author insert Mary Sue baby worship development that comes with every further attention deprived meltdown.

EXTRA STUPIDITY

The greatest Daddy of them all, the Sewage King, also known as Wendell "They unceremoniously stabbed me in the back in the comics to get rid of me instead of giving me any kind of character development, obviously this means I'm a mistreated character who deserved better, also my hair turned bright orange and got short" Lewis, wandered aimlessly in his throne room, ranting to himself in front of his captive child-slaves about how he was mistreated by everyone and it wasn't fair.

"My precious pets are sick yet again from various sewer born diseases! I have to devote my time to sobbing hysterically over them because somehow this will give me all the character development needed to assert to the rest of the igrates in this fandom that I am the best most underrated villain of all time. And yet still there are unbelievers!" He rubbed his stubbled chin pensively before shooting a glare at his shivering, malnourished child-slaves. "Everyone will realize I'm a perfect father and a good role model! Now get me more jewelry and shit that I obsessively refer to as 'pretties' like a man-child who lacks proper vocabulary for someone such as myself who you'd think would have studied theater at some point in my wretched life. GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE AND BRING ME BACK SOME TENDIES AND PEPSI!" He shook his fists at them.

The children ran away, never to be seen again unless the contrived plot called for it. Wish them luck that they aren't needed.

Every waking moment of every fic must be hyper focused on the Sewer King, including the ones where you can tell some were only included as the bare minimum handful of more popular characters in order to clickbait unsuspecting fools that there might have been some sexy Harley/Ivy shenanigans or Penguin or Batgirl acting remotely in character. Suckers! You got played. It's all about the sobbing man-baby character author insert with greasy long hair. Canon be fucked. It's all the same interchangeable sobbing underwear crying death fetish featuring a dude that must have long hair, color not a requirement. Neither is a canonically established personality.

"Played like bitches," giggled the Sewer King, prancing over to his suffering dying alligator for the hundredth time this week. "Who wouldn't want to read repetitive stories about my alligators dying and me sobbing over them, just like Doctor Animo did all those years ago? I'm better than that disgusting slut! That whiny little fuckup."

Sewer King bent down and cuddled the disease ridden beast and tickled its nose and gave it little kissies. "No one can tell these stories are completely interchangeable with those old Ben 10 ones featuring D'Void crying over dying Null Guardians. Don't even try to compare them for similarities to see the truth for yourself." He scowled, and confetti exploded from several cannons. "I'M ALWAYS SUFFERING! SUFFERING AND NEVER DOING ANYTHING ELSE OF INTEREST, OUTSIDE THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR'S VERY NARROW AND SPECIFIC INTERESTS! NO CORRELATION!" No correlation.

He cried a specific number of tears and went back to cuddling the rest of his alligators. We need this written repeatedly, as many times as possible. And it shall be so.

Oops. Right when the plot needed them to advance, the plot convenient children came back again. Poor souls.

They threw Vocaloid CDs and bags of McDonald's spicy chicken tendies at his feet.

A girl with no descriptors came forth, displaying the best thing he'd ever seen. She held a squirming female alligator in her hands. It had long flowing white hair and was wearing a pink tutu with a little silver tiara taped to its head. It looked exactly like D'Vine, the baby Mary Sue Null Guardian from years past, but it totally wasn't. It totally wasn't, you guys!

"MUH BABBY SUE!"

The Sewer King shrieked with delight and ran over, knocking the girl down and grabbing the baby Sue from her hands. The rest of the children quivered and embraced themselves, struggling not to break down in fearful tears.

The Sewer King giggled madly. He jumped up and down with the Mary Sue. He remembered his audience and shot them a vicious glare. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT? GET OUT OF HERE! I NEEDS MY PRIVATE TIME!"

The children suppressed squeaks of horror and fled the scene once again, vanishing into the ether.

"Now that I have you, my precious Sewer Princess, Wendy, I don't give a flying fuck about any of the rest of my once beloved pets. That should tell you everything you need to know about the author now basing their self-insertion fantasies onto me," said the Sewer King. "Animals are just toys, and toys, like human beings, can be discarded once you get tired of them, or they stop obeying your orders."

Then he made out with the baby Sue alligator before setting into its new golden crib in the nursery, surrounding it with thousands of stuffed toys and fast food, where it was worshipped daily as an idol. An endlessly shrieking, sobbing, tantruming black hole Sue God. The animated Batman universe imploded because the Mary Sue God was declared official canon by Bruce Timm and Paul Dini themselves. Sources not necessary.

THE END


	41. Abusive Psychotic Man-Children

Abusive Psychotic Man-Children  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
They're cute, right?

ABUSIVE PSYCHOTIC MAN-CHILDREN

"I love anything that acts like an obedient slave toward me," said the Sewer King, eagerly waiting for his slaves to bring him new toys and goods every waking moment. He nearly pissed himself with glee as they ran up to him in an orderly group of little to no dissent nor character development. At heart, they didn't matter one bit to the plot. "PRETTIES! GIVE ME NEW PRETTIES! NOW, NOW, NOW!" He pounded his fists on the arms of his throne. His greedy hands stretch out in demand.

The children walked up to him timidly, one by one dropping off many new nondescript goods. The only item that gets described in strangely little detail for its purpose was a stuffed alligator.

"THIS IS HIGHLY RELEVANT TO MY FETISHES," Sewer King blurted, grabbing the toy out of the child's hands. "It looks like the new animal I'm obsessed with." It was an expensive stuffed kitt...er, alligator. "Also interesting that my thieving child-slaves assumed that I, an endlessly greedy adult man desiring riches, such as jewelry, cash, electronics, antiques and the lot, would have any interest in this stuffed toy simply because it looks like an alligator, and I inexplicably have lots of them as pets. No correlation between this obsession with stuffed toys and underwear and crying and chocolate cake and karaoke, which just so happen to be the original author's same exact obsessions and always appear prominently." He shrugged.

The Sewer King skipped daintily over to one of his pet alligators and dropped the toy into its open mouth. The jaws snapped shut. The alligator's head thrashed wildly as it ripped the toy apart.

"So cute! See, she loves her baby!" he gushed. "Now I'm going to play kissy-face with my other pet alligators."

He kissed one and then placed his head in its mouth. "Now I'm the baby! Give me kisses!"

The jaws snapped shut again. The reptile's head began to thrash.

THE END


	42. Here Come The Ghost Alligators

Here Come The Ghost Alligators  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Oh boy, here we go. Again.

HERE COME THE GHOST ALLIGATORS

The Sewer King slid his grubby hands up and down over the nubile body of a Hatsune Miko doll, licking his lips furiously and grunting. He was momentarily distracted by the ghost of an alligator appearing before him.

The ghost's intrusion caused him to jump and drop his Miku love doll. "HOLY SHIT, WHAT THE FUCKING FUCKLETS? Why is there an alligator GHOST?"

The alligator died because they lived in a sewer and Sewer King wasn't paying attention to it anymore over playing his vidyagames and doing his karaokes, meaning he plumb forgot to feed it or check it for diseases. Most of the alligators in his army were dead, but he just kept buying new ones off the black market when he required replacements.

"Oh, right. You died from neglect and environmental diseases and I stopped caring about you because I had new toys to entertain me," said the Sewer King. He shrugged. "I take no responsibility for my actions, of course."

The alligator growled and swung its ghostly semi-transparent tail.

"What? Are you gonna act like my freakin' ex now and stalk me obsessively because you can't deal with rejection or responsibility?" He frowned. "Oh, wait, that's me." He picked up the Miku doll and began sobbing hysterically. "That feel when no GEE EFF! I'm not over it. I'm contemplating a murder-suicide but you're already dead. Guess I'll just contemplate the regular suicide, because my kind loves drama and threatening people with suicide if they don't do exactly what I want."

He ran away sobbing, and threw himself on his bed, continuing to sob onto his pillow. He took a cheeto and began to carve his arms, but then he got hungry and ate it, leaving cheese dust lines all over himself.

"Look, ma, I'm tragically obsessing over a single dead alligator, wishing I could suicide from loneliness because no adequate girlfriend insert can be found! Curse the luck! Curse it, curse it all! Also this isn't bizarre as fuck to anyone with normal perspective. This is, like, you know. Deep and poignant and stuff. Where's my Pulitzer?"

He sobbed for all eternity.

THE END


	43. Gimme More Cuddle Toys

Gimme More Cuddle Toys  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Just when you think it can't get worse, it gets much worse.

GIMME MORE CUDDLE TOYS

We join our hero, the Sewage Man-Baby, obsessing over cuddly stuffy toys for his vicious pet alligators, just like in the canon of the episode The Underdwellers. Batman: The Animated Series was such a fine example of mature themed writing for kids. So, as usual, let's reduce it to complete nonsense and yell at the fandom for being hypocrites who don't watch the show.

Ha, the alligator wagged its tail like a dog. We're not even trying to be subtle here anymore. I hope it cries exactly like a human infant.

"Does babby want new toys? Does her? Ooh woo boo boo goo goo? Does her want new toys?" he bent down and cooed disgustingly at the creature.

The alligator wagged its tail, panting like a dog. The bells on its collar jingled merrily. Its ears perked up at the word "toy" very excitedly. It meowed.

"Well, you'll only get one if my stupid child-slaves can manage to do something correct for once," said the Sewer King before he pet the alligator on its cute wet nose. "I'm sure as hell not gonna lift a finger to get you anything."

He flopped back down into his throne, knocking several old burger boxes from the arms. He grabbed his half cup of Pepsi and drained the rest from it through the straw, making obnoxiously loud sucking sounds before tossing the empty cup carelessly onto the floor for somebody else to clean up. He belched.

The only named child of the group, Frog, showed up with yet another stuffed alligator. Which was pretty weird, seeing Frog was the only really adept thief shown in the Sewer King's ranks. And he spent half the time in the story with Alfred. Who apparently doesn't exist in this universe anymore. Among everything else that has mysteriously vanished without a trace due t being plot inconvenient. Hmm.

Frog handed over the nondescript alligator stuffed toy. Let's say it was Ally the Alligator. He made several shrugging motions and bad attempts at sign language.

"Are you seriously saying you had trouble stealing a damn stuffed alligator beanie baby?" Sewer King stated in a monotone.

Frog nodded. Then he kicked the Sewer King in the balls and ran away.

The original story was just plain whack. You should read it. How embarrassing somebody thought it was deserving of idolization and far better than any other story in the fandom. That's, uh. That's some ego.

THE END


	44. Even More Stuffed Animal Obsession

Even More Stuffed Animal Obsession  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
We're on a roll.

EVEN MORE STUFFED ANIMAL OBSESSION

James Hook, er, uh, wait, where's the new script...oh, right...Wendell Lewis, the tragically abused sweet baby boy who would later become Batman's greatest foe, the Sewer King, got a stuffed frog...oh, wait, no, that was Doctor Animo...got a stuffed alligator for his birthday. As usual, his mommy gave it to him. And then his mean old daddy came in and ripped it apart, just like in all those other stories featuring the same repetitive plots and scenarios that just so happen to have new character's names swapped around in them. Making the stories completely interchangeable with each other. Hmm. Yet our infamous Suethor repeatedly insults the rest of the fandom for being able to come up with somewhat unique and entertaining plots. Methinks it's a large case of jealousy rearing its ugly head here. But who am I to assume the blatantly obvious that's only been going on unchanged and actually getting worse and even more transparent for a good number of years.

Anyway.

This incident scarred poor Wendell for life and he never forgot it. He got so mad, he moved to the sewers and went on to be a reviled criminal who took advantage of orphaned or down on their luck children, collecting them as slaves, forcing them to live down in a sewer in horrific conditions, bringing him food and wealth on a daily basis while they had to take care of themselves and watch out for the alligators swarming around the place which prevented them from coming and going easily to escape their terrible conditions.

Batman was nowhere to be found in this fictional universe, meaning they were never rescued. The only saving grace was that they could not be exploited sexually under penalty of "We told you OP was a pedo despite them screaming that everyone else in the fandom was a pedo" so creepy shit can't be exposed in public at the moment and the children would not be written in worse conditions, being forced into ships with the infamous Sewage Creeper. Whew, a miniscule relief.

The Sewer King held a stuffed alligator in his quivering hand. It was bound in duct tape. His left eye twitched.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, everything is fine, this is fine. I'll find somebody else to make into my captive victim and feed me nothing but praise and reinforcement for my narcissistic delusions. Somebody out there will write me free porn fic of the Sewer King sobbing hysterically in his underwear in the BDSM rape dungeon while a female Mary Sue alligator gets beaten to death and then we both become ghosts and live happily ever after. Just like Doctor Animo and Captain Hook and their interchangeable female Sue inserts." He sobbed uncontrollably. "If I don't, I'll just move on to the next thing, and repeat the process in a different fandom with more suitable cuckold threesomes!"

NEVER THE END


	45. Even More Sick Alligators

Even More Sick Alligators  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
There's no pattern. Stop suggesting there is.

EVEN MORE SICK ALLIGATORS

We join Sewer King sobbing over another mysterious plot borne illness that inevitably kills his poor little pet alligators. Just like with the Null Guardians and D'Void years ago. Never changes. Only the names of persons, locations, and objects. Mmm, so entertaining, to read the same thing over and over. Every year. With name changes. Can't imagine why nobody's flocking to gush praise on them and begging "please stop spamming your stories separately" instead.

"My spoiled brats are obtaining new kormite, whoops, I mean pretties for me, as they are always written to do," said the Sewer King. "I can't even imagine somebody exploring those tortured children's depth or Frog's instead of mine. The extent of which boils down to: I CRY THEREFORE I'M SYMPATHETIC! Somehow. Anyway, LOVE ME! OR YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE WHO'S NEVER WATCHED THE SHOW! And repeat." He cuddled his alligator and gave it scratchies on its tummy-tum. "This is really cute. The audience must also think so, not be confused and-or completely weirded out by this bizarre behavior. Because I pet one's nose once in the canon, this means I will repeat the action seven thousand times in every story, and this is now a defining trait established by the canon. Like random underwear exposure and singing karaoke."

The alligator's jaws snapped down on his pants and ripped them off, exposing his specifically blue boxer shorts. The Sewer King blushed like a Japanese school girl.

"This is not simply an author appeal fetish. I repeat, this is NOT an author appeal fetish," he stated, to the belief of no one in the audience.

So when do we actually get the full on BDSM torture-rape dungeons? Dare I say I miss parodying them? God, what has become of me. I also miss the giant Chinese food banquets where every damn bit of food was announced in one huge mile long text chain paragraph where etcetera would have really sufficed in that case.

Sewer King blushed fiercely, made an "uguu" sound, and jammed his fist into his mouth to prevent a moan from slipping out.

"Should we really be doing this when children are present?" he asked, grinning slyly. "It's not...suggestive...is it? Tee hee!"

The children came back right at that moment with stuffed alligator toys. They looked ready to puke at their evil dom daddy's fixation with exposing his underoos to the general public, and sadly the general public was now them.

"Hey man, long as I keep them on," Sewage Creep protested.

The kids ran the fuck away, thankfully, as he and his pet sewer gators ran up to the huge pile of stuffed alligators. This fic is killing my brain cells. What the fuck. Oh well. Here we go.

"KAWAII NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE," screamed the Sewer King, jumping into the pile of cute stuffed toys and cuddling them, along with the actual alligators, who also cuddled the toys along with him. Because...fuck everything. "IT'S CUTE! SHUT THE FUCK UP! EVERYONE ELSE'S STORIES ARE STUPID EXCEPT FOR MINE! IT'S NOT THE COMPLETE REVERSE AND I'M SUPER ULTRA BITTER ABOUT IT! THIS IS FUCKING CANON, YOU DISGUSTING PLEBS!"

Also, everyone was going to die in ten minutes. What.

Because same old repeating tragedy plot, that's why. No details necessary.

THE END


	46. Hangry Nonsense

Hangry Nonsense  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
What is even going on anymore. Control has been lost. Past the point of no return. Also yaoi.

HANGRY NONSENSE

Doctor Animo contemplated his specifically three alligators, which had not been fed in quite some time because he lacked funds.

"My poor pet alligators," he said, tearing up a little. His bottom lip trembled.

There was a shrill scream in the background. Someone ran up and shoved him to the ground. Startled, he looked up.

"Excuse the fuck outta me?" he demanded.

It was a man dressed like a pirate, but his eye patch was a set of half-sunglasses. He had long, greasy black hair plastered to his forehead and temples. Dandruff shone through and it was sparse in several spots due to early onset male pattern baldness. On his thin lips was a bitter scowl.

"Who the FUCK are you?" the guy demanded. He whipped out a long staff and held it threateningly at his enemy. "And what are you doing in MY SEWER with MY ALLIGATORS?"

"I could say the same thing!" Doctor Animo said, getting up. He dusted himself off and adjusted his dirty, stinking, unkempt clothing, which made no real sense. "I'm Doctor Aloysius Animo, world renown scientist! This is my laboratory, and these are my alligators!"

"Bullshit," said the other man. "I'm the Sewer King, and this is MY obsessively repetitive creepy fetish poorly disguised as canon self-insert OC fanfiction now! Mine, mine, mine!" He jumped up and down, stomping each time he said the word. "I'm the new self-insert mommy-daddy-baby underwear fetish! I'll even get a Mary Sue baby or random woman to ship with myself one day. Any day soon now. I'm waiting so hard." He pointed down, revealing a half chub prodding against his pants.

"Oh, well. That would explain why there's been nothing written of me for some time now," Doctor Animo said worriedly to himself. "You mean, I've...been replaced? Replaced and cast aside like garbage? Despite all that fucking whining for three years about how OP was the WORLD'S BIGGEST ANIMO FAN to the two actual Animo fans in the Ben 10 fandom? All that performative outrage and bitterness about Doctor Animo not getting any attention was a lie? I was just another in a long chain of interchangeable pawns to be used as bait for some idiot to write OP free fetish porn off off? No! No! NEVER! I WON'T ACCEPT IT!"

He tackled the Sewer King to the ground.

"I NEED THE MOST NARCISSISTIC VALIDATION OF ALL!" he cried while sobbing. "GIVE ME BACK MY SCREECHING MARY SUE BABY! YOU GIVE IT BACK RIGHT NOW!"

They pair had a threateningly masculine male cat fight that frightened all the homophobic yaoi fanatics in the audience who weren't comfortable with the idea that men with long hair and whiny tendencies can still be men retreating back into their dank corners, where they trembled and watched from a safe distance. There was a slight amount of hair pulling in the battle, to which each man berated the other for and the yaoi fans got off on.

When the two of them got up, they realized during the fight, each had torn their pants. They gasped, eyes wide.

"Hey, you wear specifically blue boxer shorts, too?" they questioned at the same time. "No correlation," they turned and said to the rest of the aggravated audience.

No correlation.

"Underwear really turns me on for some reason," Doctor Animo admitted. "I can't control myself. Almost like some weirdo perv adult-child who's never watched Ben 10 and just used me for my hair length to claim I'm a good person based on the fact that I have animals around because they use me for a self-insertion porn fantasy was controlling my every move."

The Sewer King looked startled. "Whoa. Me too! I always feel like that every since I started getting written into insane and repetitive fanfictions on a weekly basis. Small world, huh."

They both nodded.

Then came an awkward silence. It lasted specifically for an hour.

"So, you wanna fuck?" Doctor Animo asked, finally getting bored.

The Sewer King gasped loudly. "Are you mad? Such is forbidden by law! Two men with long hair can't gay it up with each other. It pisses off the Yaoi Gods."

"Well, I am mad, but I'm also not a believer in those laws, so," he said, and shrugged. "Let's piss everyone off by bumping undies!"

The Sewer King bit his lip and almost orgasmed from the thought. "Ooh, you're so dirty! I like that."

They started making out and touching underwear together and kissing and everyone foolishly trapped in the audience because they clicked on this started puking and screaming and wishing they could unread text. But you can't. You can never unread it. It's in your brain forever. When you lie down tonight, it'll tear up through your subconscious like a fucking chestburster and every parody author in existence will feed deeply on your hellish screams. Delicious screams of the curious innocents' sanity being destroyed sustains us. Foolish mortals.

"Ooh, yeah," Doctor Animo moaned," this is my favorite crossover to date." He and the Sewer King banged their boxer clad butts together.

"I love stuffed toys," said the Sewer King, putting several of them into his boxers. "They're so puffy and soft, like my asshole."

Doctor Animo picked up a discarded hot dog. He waved it around. "Too bad we can't write MA stuff on The Pit anymore. Well, you can, but people who follow the rules aren't supposed to. But I'm sure we can find a comical substitute." He placed the hotdog suggestively near the Sewer King's butt.

The Sewer King picked up a pink frosted donut, grinning maniacally. "Oooh! I've got the idea."

Doctor Animo jammed the hotdog through the donut's hole. The manlets started giggling uncontrollably like the disturbed five year olds they wear mentally.

"Oh, yeah, that's hot, baby," said Doctor Animo. "Bareback in a sewer."

The Sewer King grabbed a half eaten container of chocolate pudding. He squeezed it on the hotdog's tip, to Doctor Animo's mild confusion.

"I forgot to douche and I had like twenty bean burritos at Taco Bell this afternoon," said the Sewer King. "I'm going for realism here."

"Gross," Doctor Animo said disappointedly. He flung the chocolate covered hotdog away. "Enough of that."

"Anyway, now we get married so you can have be barefoot and pregnant forever," Sewer King said, smiling eagerly in a disturbing fashion.

Doctor Animo's head swiveled on his stick-like neck. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, now wait just a minute here. Who says I have the babies?"

"You're the shorter one."

"The hell I am!" Doctor Animo stood up, revealing he actually was the shorter one, but not that it mattered outside the sake of a joke.

"You are! Shorter one has the baby!"

"Well, you're the whiny bitch one who acts like a baby all the time! Infantilized one has the baby!"

They started viciously slapping each other while screaming and hurling insults.

"Slut!"

"Whorebag!"

"Sperm dumpster!"

"Baby farm!"

"Twatwaffle!"

"Fish factory!"

"Cunt bucket!"

"No, you!" they shouted.

Then they sobbed uncontrollably for an hour in their boxers.

"Wait, I have an idea. I'll just use my science to mutate an alligator into a baby that contains samples of both our DNA," said Doctor Animo. "Then all we need is a test tube. No muss, no fuss. No one has to experience the biologically insulting and purposefully degrading pregnancy fetishes that come with homophobic yaoi fic."

"Cool beans," said the Sewer King approvingly.

So Animo did. He created an unholy abomination hybrid human-alligator child using both their DNA and made it explicitly female somehow. She had long white hair with black streaks in it and cried all day and night, demanding food and attention every moment of existence, until she drove them both insane and they jumped out of a sewage pipe that emptied off a cliff into the ocean. Their bodies were bashed apart on the rocks and slowly devoured by the local wildlife, leaving no trace of either of them.

THE END


	47. Ain't Afraid A No Ghosties

Ain't Afraid A No Ghosties  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
More dead alligators turned into ghosts for your reading displeasure. Some people have the courtesy to put their nonsensical bullshit into a collection instead of repeatedly spamming it all over hell, single copy-paste fic by single copy-paste fic, unlike others. Do we really and truly need seventy separate fics featuring the same thing, over and over? Apparently so. Because if the fandom didn't want to read the first twenty, spamming hundreds more at them will surely wear them down until they develop interest. What logic.

AIN'T AFRAID A NO GHOSTIES

The Scowly King made the grr face again as he was staring at his sick baby gator who caught the Mysterious Unknown Plot Related Illness for the umpteenth time this month. All signs pointed to the undeniable fact that the animal was going to die and cause Sewer-Chan to sob like baby again. Speaking of baby, we've reached peak Null Guardian Sue here. It's distinctly the same thing, but less intense. And now it's just with alligators and the Sewer King from Batman: TAS. That's transparent on a comedic level. Yikes on bikes.

"NO ONE WILL NOTICE," the Sewer-kun screamed in rage.

But they did. They did. Oh, how they did. And they gnashed their teeth and wailed helplessly.

He placed a stuffed alligator into his pet alligator's baby crib. The alligator cuddled the toy in its arms and then died. The audience began shrieking and ripping out their hair and desperately searching for an escape route for their brains.

"NOT AGAIN," they cried out in anguish. "NOT AGAIN!"

Yes, again. My God. Hilarious. Only not so much. But still...kinda.

You won't stop squirting out repeating deliberately OOC fetish nonsense out of some misplaced sense of narcissistic self-righteousness, and I won't stop parodying you because you're just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever.

Or until I get bored and finally ween myself from compulsive fanfic stupidity. Whichever comes first.

And after the alligator Sue did, it became the adorable ghostie. It manifested in front of the Sewer King and it kissied his face and caused him to shit his pants.

He trembled with much fright and apprehension. "HAUNTED! HAUNTED BY MY EXES FOR ALL ETERNITY!"

And then he died of a heart attack and became a ghost as well. They played in the crib with all the stuffed toys.

Batman showed up but he couldn't punch his enemies. So, irritated, he had to go consult the Ghostbusters. He was forced to call the female Ghostbusters because the real ones weren't available. They came and sucked up the awful ghosts and locked them away forever in the ghost jail.

THE END


	48. How Many Times Do We Have To Repeat This

How Many Times Do We Have To Repeat This  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Honestly. Get some new material, please. It's been over 10 years. 10 years. Jesus freaking Christmas. I hope you read my text in the voice of Jeremy Scott of CinemaSins fame.

HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO REPEAT THIS

The Sewer King appeared in a fanfic one day and did one of three things he always does:

One, he scowled. Two, he fixated on his sick alligators who were once again dying from that unnamed plot related illness. Three, he trembled to show any emotion. And I guess you could count four, the fourth being obsessing with ghosts.

"Erm muh gerd!" Sewer King cringed as he held his armload of Vocaloid CDs. He dropped them to the ground as the ghost alligator approached him. "I'm being haunted by my past!"

He dove under the bed and ripped his pants, exposing his boxer shorts. The ghost alligator tickled his ass with its nose.

"This was a good story, right? The best, in fact. Give me reviews or you're all a bunch of elitist hypocrites who've never watched Batman! Unlike me, who knows everything about everything! And this is proof I'm not lying out of my ass!"

He squeezed out a fart that turned everyone in the vicinity into ghosts, it was so foul. Then he sucked his thumb and cried.

THE END


	49. Copy-Paste OC Nonsense Proof

This Is Just Copy-Paste OC Nonsense, Here's More Proof  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Stop harassing the fandom about not knowing anything about Batman. This character and all the others are just templates for some shitty and insanely creepy adult-baby BDSM fetish self-insert OCs so the fantastically infamous author can clickbait attention from the suckers who don't realize this yet, somehow, despite it going on for well over 17 years of public history and counting, and being called out by dozens of people over dozens of times, usually resulting in an eventual ban, but not always.

THIS IS JUST COPY-PASTE OC NONSENSE, HERE'S MORE PROOF

Craig Dragotti, who was not the Sewer King, but the Sewer King just so happens to be an abuser man-child and has long hair which the aggressively spam wild Suethor based entirely upon themselves, surprise, surprise, was having his traditional sobbing smiling karaoke concert while wearing a dress. It went on for hours. He had a flat monotone. He sang off key, being tone deaf and all. The singing doesn't matter. The whole deal was he always forces people to partake in his karaoke fetish against their will in order to enjoy their suffering and torment.

There's no correlation between this and what this particular incessantly spam happy passive-aggressive drive-by-insult tossing "fanfic" author has been doing to the fandoms every year. Right? Up to and including them actually breaking down and admitting they steal canon names and slap them into their copypasted stories and call them "original" for whatever reason and then scream at the rest of the fandom about how everyone is uncreative and never watched the show or read the comics and whatnot, and also they go so far as to steal other people's story ideas from straight within the fandom, most often from the unsuspecting children they try to befriend so they can turn them into new validation slaves who will lie to their face and never question anything they say, no matter how outrageously wrong it's been proven while brainwashing them into their own ideas and isolating them from the rest of the outside world, eventually the whole goal being to get them to do sexual stuff for them, like writing rapey fanfic of their self-inserts.

Holy shit. When you lay it out like that, it's less amusing and actually pretty sad and scary. Oh well.

The audience and the children ran away, leaving the Sewer King enraged and trapped in another narcissistic meltdown. Then he wanted revenge.

"I wish I could play freeze tag in the rape dungeons with Isabella Dragotti, my waifu-slave Sue, but no one will write me any free request fic anymore!" He glanced very pissedly at the amount of children he had been stuck with. "This sucks!"

TFW no gf to ship and can't ship kiddies or you'll out yourself as a massive hypocrite who yelled at everyone else in the Peter Pan and Ben 10 fandoms for incest and child porn. D'oh.

Batman showed up and beat the shit out of Mr. Craig Dragotti, wondering where the heck the Sewer King went. World's Greatest Detective, my ass.

"It's hard!" Batman whined. Then he went back to punching out his rage on pedophiles and child abusers.

THE END


	50. Feel Sorry For This Evil Character

Feel Sorry For This Evil Character Who I'm Kin With Now  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Try not barf as we struggle through another one of these monstrosities.

FEEL SORRY FOR THIS EVIL CHARACTER WHO I'M KIN WITH NOW

A random interchangeable female lamp walked up to the Mary Suer King. She felt sorry for him, even though he was an abusive piece of shit who manipulated and hurt her and many other vulnerable children every day. It no longer mattered. He was daddy, because he cared about animals and stuffed toys. She instantly put aside the fact that he screamed them senseless when they failed to bring him new valuables or make him food in the correct way or ignored his horrifically bad karaoke sessions, which I'm sure are as realistically canon as anything else written here. All she could think about was how sad and mistreated he was, not her, or any of the captive children he tormented with alligators and threats on a daily basis. What a woobie.

The Sewer King was wearing a maid outfit and kitten collar, sobbing by a white dress clad alligator who had on a black haired wig and a ball gag in its mouth. It had died due to asphyxiation during play time. Its lips were badly smeared with bright pink lipstick. One stiletto heel was stuck on its left foot.

The lamps, who had turned into a group of nondescript children, immediately saw the Mary Sueur King as no longer a thread because he was sad and crying, and that meant he was no longer evil or dangerous. All was forgiven.

They ran up and hugged and cuddled him.

Is this...is this fucking reverse aftercare? Where you assure the dom he's a good daddy and didn't do nothing mean because he'll get his feelings hurt? Disturbing.

As always, Mary Suer King took instant advantage of their gullibility and tied them all up against a pole before he began forcibly singing karaoke at them for hours on end. And probably whipping them and shaving their heads for good measure. It wasn't creepy at all and you shouldn't feel sorry for them. You should only feel sorry for the Suer King for feeling bad that his toy got broken.

THE END


	51. Sobbing At The Cemetery Again

Sobbing At The Cemetery Again  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
It goes on and on like this.

SOBBING AT THE CEMETERY AGAIN

Craig "The Sewer King" Dragotti stood at the grave of his dead waifu, Isabella "Alligator" Dragotti. He trembled and sobbed, it being the only actions he could manage for some reason.

"My poor baby. You died again due to mysterious circumstances," he cried while sobbing. "Just like you did yesterday, and last week, and the month before that. It never ends. Good thing I have an infinite supply of you."

He ran to a vending machine and popped in a dime. A new female alligator wearing a white dress and a fancy church granny hat popped out. She lasted for five seconds before dying of the same illness. Sewer Craig sobbed once again.

"MAI WAIFU!"

She turned into a ghost.

"Oh goody! This is even better!" Sewer King cuddled her and kissed her. He scratched her snout and belly. "Now we can fuck too. Because you're tangible."

The alligator looked wary. She shook her head.

"You're my WIFE, therefore you are my PROPERTY! I OWN YOU! You have to do everything I say immediately when I demand it, so bend over, baby!" snapped the Sewer Craig.

The alligator bent over, lifting her tail, a worried expression on her face. Alligator tears slid down her face.

"I LOVE FANFICTION!" Sewer Craig screamed, before other screams chorused throughout the area.

THE END


	52. Can't Get Over Being Ignored

Can't Get Over Being Ignored  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Oy vey. This isn't obvious yet.

CAN'T GET OVER BEING IGNORED

The Sewage King was inevitably struck down by his own plot created unknown and unnamed illness. I think it was once or thirteen times referred to it as MARY SUE PLAGUE AIDS CANCER years ago. He hacked up several hairballs and blew his nose into a tissue. He threw it onto the large pile of dirty mess next to his throne.

"I'm sick. I'm dying. And oooh, now I am dead," he said, and died.

He floated around hell searching for a boyfriend-free gal, but never found any. Eventually Satan got pissed off with his shenanigans and kicked him into Purgatory. He was Forever Alone.

The children celebrated his death while desecrating his corpse.

THE END


	53. Eternally Sobbing Karaoke Marathons

King Craig Dragotti's Eternally Sobbing Karaoke Marathons  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Where's the "in a dress" part? Why leave that out? Everything else is word for word. Google is not your friend.

KING CRAIG DRAGOTTI'S ETERNALLY SOBBING KARAOKE MARATHONS

The Sewer King was singing a karaoke marathon of anime songs from the 1980s and if you don't think this is canon, you're a moron and a hater. He smiled and sobbed while wearing a dress and forcing everyone of his child-slaves to refer to him as "Mr. Craig Dragotti, Stereotypical Italian Mafia Boss" even though he had no idea how the mafia actually worked and was actually an inept perpetually shrieking man-child of the utmost proportions. It was just a suit slash position of authority fetish. Also he sometimes slipped up and made them call him Atsushi Sakurai, after his favorite Japanese rock singer, whom all his traits weren't stolen off of, right down to the obsession with kittens, the abusive father, a brother, an ex-wife, and dead mother, and lots of BDSM related imagery, we swear.

The child-slaves tried to cover their bleeding ears to no avail.

"STOP IGNORING ME, YOU KNOW IT MAKES ME CRAZY! FUCKING CRAZY!"

He flipped the piano over and frothed at the mouth. He raged for exactly an hour while the children hid in the corner and Frog went to the surface and got caught by Batman, who went down and found the King due to all the noise. He punched the shit out him and freed the children.

"I'd be more than happy to make you a ghost," said Michael Keaton Batman, grinning as he tucked an explosive into the Sewer Narc's boxer shorts.

THE END


	54. Six Times Or More

You Wrote This Shit Like Six Times  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
I lost count and skipped some, but damn. Argost didn't have this many.

YOU WROTE THIS SHIT LIKE SIX TIMES

The story is about the interchangeable canon character with long hair, now the Sewer King, doing the same thing the author's painfully obvious self-insert OCs do, which is Craig Dragotti, a long haired man-child who sobs all day long, mourns his lost wife, Isabella, touches chests and underwear, and they even sob while eating hot wings and pasta. Like...why do these people cry over everything? Crying is a fetish, that's why. And there's loads of sobbing torture and abuse and ghosts, vampires, chocolate cake, karaoke in dresses while crying, playing freeze tag, dying, cemeteries, grown adults acting like babies, obsessing over mommies and daddies, overt misogyny, racist stereotypes, extremely narrow points of view of the world, inability to grasp basic concepts like romance or emotions outside a cartoonish soap opera based context, extreme gore, repeating horror tropes, and other weird shit. In their mansions.

Which are now in the sewer. Because Sewer King.

Oh, and all the kitties are alligators now.

Expensive stuffed ones.

THE END


	55. Craig versus Isabella

Replacement Sewer Craig Versus Replacement Isabella Batgirl  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Unfortunately due to age restrictions, you can't ship them.

REPLACEMENT SEWER CRAIG VERSUS REPLACEMENT ISABELLA BATGIRL.

We join our long haired sobbing gramps, Morty Gloom, aimlessly wandering the streets of Gotham. Just like Ben, Gwen, Doctor Animo, Vilgax, and every other character did in Ben 10 fanfictions by Pink Rose Garden. Such similarities. Such hilarious similarities.

Batgirl showed up, drooling lack of brain and all, and started panting like a bitch in heat. "Ooh, do I spy a sexy Silver Fox! My ovaries are tingling with forbidden sins."

She giggled and ran stupidly straight at him with no other lines of dialogue or sense, then stared at him, blushing. She toed the ground, looking bashful and childishly naive and therefore vulnerable to being preyed upon. "Um, Hi Mr. Gloom. What'cha doin'?"

"Crying," sobbed The Weeper. He placed a tissue to his eyes, letting loose with loud, wild sobs.

Batgirl bit her lip. She tilted her head back. "That's hot." She almost came."Oooh!" she squealed. "My naughty sinful bits are throbbing with the desire to be slapped."

"You know we kinda do this every week. Did you notice?" he asked.

"Not really. I have a low functioning brain now and can't be arsed to question anything, no matter how bluntly stupid it is," she said. She stuck her finger up her left nostril and twisted it, eyes crossed. "Me am Batgurl! Boobies. Bat-boobies. Herp derp. Oops, I pooped a little."

"I wish you could call me Daddy, but then everyone would know OP is a pedo who acts outrageously condescending toward other pedos and incest fetishists, despite the fact that much of their old pedophile incest fanfic can still be found online in various fandoms. Funny how some people hurl the word hypocrite around at everyone else without realizing they are the textbook definition of it."

One word exploded inside Batgirl's empty head. "DADDY!" Batgirl screamed. "I was supposed to be home before 7pm!" She ran home.

Her dad, who was never named nor described in any detail, sent her upstairs with a scolding. "I hope you weren't running around out there like a crazy girl with those darn caped weirdos! You know I don't want you involved in none of that!"

"You never let me do anything fun!" Barbara, whose real name was also never used in the story for some strange reason, burst into tears and threw herself on her bed.

She took out her phone, searching various hady dating websites until she found the man of her dreams, Mortimer Gloom. She messaged him excitedly.

"its so hawt when u cray sexy tears daddy grampy"

"Oh, hey. How did you get this number?"

"i seen u on gerontophilia dot cum lol XD ur face is so toothless"

"Do you want to see my undies?"

"hells yah ill show u my bobbles"

"Sweet deal. Come to the front door in five minutes."

Barb gasped and squealed. She waited five minutes then ran downstairs and threw open the door.

The Joker shot her in the spine.

Mortimer was standing next to him, sobbing. "I get off on crying, sorry." He blew his nose loudly. "Who saw this one coming? Ha, ha coming. I'm doing that right now." He sobbed harder.

"Refuge in audacity. I love it," Joker said, snapping a picture.

Then he and Weeps started making out on the floor next to Barbara's body as she sobbed.

"Bull shiiiiit! I never want to be in another story ever again!" Barbara screamed. She got up and wiped the fake blood off herself and stormed out to complain about sexism in writing. "MISOGYNISTS! FUCK YOU ALL!"

"Oooh, baby, we wish!" the creepy men cooed at her. Then they went back to touching undies and making out and crying and laughing.

Batman kicked in the window, looking pissed.

"The door was open, you know," yelled Jim, who had appeared from the kitchen doorway holding a cup of coffee in one hand.

"How DARE you cheat on me," Batman growled at Joker.

"It's not like that, Batsy, darling, sweetie pie! I thought we could have a threesome," Joker said innocently.

"Did somebody say threesome?" Harley Quinn said, sticking her head through the open door. She gaped when she saw her fan preferred lover trapped between Batman and some old crying guy minor character. "OH, WHAT THE FUCK? YOU'RE HAVING A THREESOME WITHOUT ME? HOW COULD YOU!" She burst into enraged screams before jumping onto the Joker and trying to bash his head in with her trust mallet. Batman tried to fight her off, but she was full of female spite. Weeper just kept on weeping.

Batman and Harley decided to work together to beat the shit out of Joker and Weeper while Jim sipped his coffee and recoded everything on his phone to upload to the GCPD's YouTube account later. "This will get so many views!"

THE END


	56. Interview with the Sewerpire

Interview with the Sewerpire  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
If you're going to write less than three paragraphs 20 times in a row, why not stick them into a collection? It's called common courtesy. Oh, right. Then you wouldn't be able to spam an entire page worth of your own notorious work and bump down everyone else who's trying to get their fics out there to the public. Desperate attention hogging to feed your massive ego...makes perfect sense.

INTERVIEW WITH THE SEWERPIRE

Count Sewage von Craig, King of the Sewerpires, hunched over his collection of Vocaloid CDs. He rifled through them before selecting his current favorite. He popped the CD into the player, turned up the volume to excruciatingly loud, and grabbed his mic. Jumping onto the stage, he began to sing horribly off-key while sobbing hysterically. Instead of a full length dress, he simply donned a pair of bright red "fuck me" heels.

He swung his cape over his arm and screamed into the mic, "Want You! Ready? Merry X'mas, chuu, I kiss you because I love you, I kiss you because I love you, need you! Steady! Merry S-E-X'mas! Merry S-E-X'mas, chuu, I with you, white white X'mas, I with you, white white X'mas! Merry Merry X'mas to you! I WANNA FUCK YOU! GIMMIE MY PRESENT, fuck youuuuuuuuuuuuu!"

His slave labor force came running out from the dank, vermin infested backrooms, weak from hunger and groggy from lack of sleep.

They watched their beloved Count Dumbass lay himself down on the stage and begin sobbing harder, bitching endlessly over how mistreated he was by normie society.

"Everyone should love me even though I'm cruel and unbearably whiny," he asserted. "That's what my mommy always told me. It's what I've since to come to expect from everyone who is forced to endure my presence." He slammed fists and booted feet down on the rickety wood, throwing a huge tantrum. "BAAAW! WHEN PEOPLE DON'T BOW DOWN AND KISS MY ASS, I GET MAD ENOUGH TO ABUSE SMALL ANIMALS AND INNOCENT CHILDREN! This still makes me a sympathetic individual. At least in my own twisted point of view, which I assume to be everyone else's due to extremely malignant narcissism."

The half-vampire, half-human, full-weaaboo rolled onto his back, still stifling petulant tears. He tried to act cute and failed miserably. Then he tried to enact basic human emotions and failed at that. Then he tried to be sexy to entice a potential audience. Wait for it. He rolled onto his stomach and pulled down his pants so everyone could see his LIGHT BLUE BOXER SHORTS.

Then he pouted and grabbed up a stray chicken nugget. He made the ahegao face. He inserted the rogue nug between his wide buttocks.

"D-D-D-D-D-distessssssssssssss," he moaned filthily.

The children in the room screamed and threw various coin at his prone form. They ran, shrieking and crying, back to the bowels of their unfortunate sewer dwelling.

Count Sewie grabbed up the precious coin and pocketed it greedily. They would buy many wares later.

"Pretties, pretties for meeee," he grunted. "Repeating lines is good basis for a story when you don't know jack about the characters in question. My name is Count Wendell Craig Cloudesly Dragotti von Mittelschmerz. All I do is cry and beg for undeserved sympathy when I'm not engaged in torture-gore-rape-pedophilia scenarios or random access comedy."

He got up and brushed some of the the fecal matter off his knees.

"Now it's time to pet my kitties. I mean alligators."

He skipped lazily over to one of the alligators. But it had died. Sad.

"Oh no, sad thing happened, time to cry buckets," he cried before he cried. Two seconds later, he stopped caring. "Now it's time to stuff my face."

He ran to a table full of tendies and mash. He began shoveling the meal into his gaping maw with bare hands. Fistful after fistfull. For an hour. Exactly one hour. A giant tumbler of Pepsi washed it all down. He went for the chocolate cake next, grabbing up great handfuls of it and slapping it down his insatiable gullet. After which he began to slap the remnants of the cake.

"SLAP THE CAKE! SLAP IT!" He burst into hysterical laughter before it went back to hysterical sobbing. "Why doesn't anyone notice me? I incessantly regurgitate the dankest of memes. Why am I not instantly popular?"

He flipped the table. He ran to his bedroom to play in his giant pile of stuffed toys. He picked one up and cuddled it while sucking on his left thumb.

"Fuzzy wuzzy woo-woo, why doesn't anyone else love me the way you do?" he asked the massacred toy whose eyes had been gouged out long ago. Stuffing poured from its mouth and belly. Its left leg had been amputated. It did not respond, prompting the Count to release an enraged shriek and rip it apart some more before throwing it across the room. "I NEVER LOVED YOU ANYWAY! I'LL JUST GET SOMEONE TO REPLACE YOU!"

A sudden burst of light shocked the Count into another screaming fit. He dove under the bed, hissing at the approaching enemy. It was, somewhat ironically, a large bat.

"But I'm the ONE TRUE VAMPIRE!" he shrieked at the figure.

Batman shined his super bright flashlight into the NEET's hideously pale, food stained face. "Shut up." He tossed a Bat-grenade under the bed.

The wannabe gothpire screamed like a five year old girl and rushed out from his hiding spot with heavily beshitted pants. Not simply from fright, but from several years worth of a horrendously unhealthy diet of daily junk foods and sodas. Chris-Chan would be shocked at such lack of self-care.

"MOMMY, MY BUTT NEEDS A WIPE!" The terrible man fell down and began to cry again, hoping somebody out there would be turned on by it.

Batman wrinkled his pointy little nose in the saddest of cringes. "Jesus flaming Christ...you need help."

He dramatically whipped open his cape and did the cool flying thing at the Sewer Baby, who shrieked again and begged the evil bat not to spank him, although he secretly wanted it. Batman just kicked him in the ass, being careful not to get shit on the tips of his custom Bat-boots.

"No amount of fanfics with me and Joker sucking anus could ever be as bad as these are," he admitted.

Fade to black, Danny Elfman credits theme plays.

THE END


	57. A Horrible Tragedy

A Horrible Tragedy  
By: I'm Not Wearing Any Pants  
Or comedy, depending on your point of view.

A HORRIBLE TRAGEDY

One day the Sewer King, whose real name from a single issue comic where he appeared just to be quickly killed off was Wendell Lewis, although he preferred to be called Lord Sexpants, High King of the Black Elves when he played WoW, was sitting in his throne, brooding over not being the most popular Batman villain of all time, whining because nobody paid enough attention to him. Because he assumed he was entitled to everyone's time and also to free pussy whenever he demanded it, and would scream and throw violent tantrums when he was denied, meaning most people just referred to him as King of the Incels. This caused him to retreat to the sewers, surrounding himself with a bunch of vulnerable orphan children he couldn't touch in public or Chris Hanson would show up with fifty policemen who weren't from Gotham, meaning competent ones.

The Sewer King sat on his throne next to an empty package of McNuggets, frowning. He crumpled the bag and threw it at a starving child who recoiled.

"You need to get more pretties and fatties for your King," he snarled at the gaggle of terrified child-slaves.

One of them came forward and signed something to the evil, insane man. Signing was okay, sometimes. Never speaking. "But we've given you TONS of both, my King! We're so tired and weak from hunger. Please, have mercy."

The Sewer King shot up from his throne. It tipped and fell over, revealing it was plastic that had been spray painted gold and had some velvet glued onto it.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK BACK TO YOUR KING! I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS INSUBORDINATION! NO, NO, NO!"

He began stomping his feet and tantruming again, shaking and screaming, as rage-filled adult-children are wont to do.

"YOU WILL GET ME MORE PRETTIES FOR YOUR KING OR DIE! NOW OUT, OUT OUUUUUT WITH YOUUUUU!"

The children fled, never to be seen again unless the plot called for them. Which it won't. Be free, poor tormented children. They were rescued and went on to live better lives.

Meantime, the Sewage King's pants fell down, exposing his cartoon printed diaper. He gasped and blushed.

"Oh noes, my Huggies!"

He pulled out a binky and stuck it in his mouth before sucking on it loudly. He fell to the ground. There, he began playing with his many stuffed toys. He pulled up his favorite stuffed alligator, Chompy, and kissed it repeatedly on the snout.

"No one understands me like you, Chompy-kins!" he cooed to it. "I don't understand why all those meanie normies of society won't bow down and worship the ground I walk on and give me free things, like sex and attention, the most of all I want, anytime I want it. It confuses me so much, my head hurts on a regular basis. That's not the constant high sodium and caffeine intake of my diet, right? No way."

Sewer King grabbed his karaoke machine and microphone. He began to blast some karaoke of the original Sailor Moon theme with his own vastly improved lyrics.

"I'm the greatest person of all time, I can say it if it's true in my head. My brain is about to short circuit, because I can't make all my enemies die slowly and painfully. I'm always crying in the moonlight. I don't know how to do anything else. I don't have a heart or empathy, so screw you. My face looks like the inside of a garbage truck."

He ran and kicked down a large stack of empty Pepsi cans and miscellaneous styrofoam cups.

"COKE AND PEPSI, COKE AND PEPSI, COKE AND PEPSI, COKE AND PEPSI!" he screamed, headbanging.

The song ended when he realized he had no captive audience and went into another rage meltdown.

"I require a bride to be my eternal waifu," he concluded, snapping his fingers.

He threw the microphone somewhere in the stinking water, which electrocuted a bunch of his alligators, but he didn't give a shit. They were easily replaceable, like everything. Human and otherwise. He went to the surface.

The surface light nearly blinded him because he only had the one dark lens for his eyewear. He shaded himself with his hand before spying a nice catch. The first boob shaped object that walked by. There was a pretty looking girl wearing a white dress and hat. She had long dark hair and sunglasses that hid icey blue eyes.

"Hot momma, daddy likes!" The Sewer King crawled out of the drain and ran over to her, drool flying off his blubbery lips. "YOU'RE MY DESTINED SOULMATE! I CAN FEEL IT! LET US AWAY TO THE BDSM SEX DUNGEON, M'LADY!"

The lady took one look at the hot and greasy mess of fuck coming toward her and let out a scream loud enough to shatter the sound barrier.

"POLICE!" she cried.

A traditional Irish beat cop immediately jerked to a halt on his rounds and came running over, brandishing his billy club. "Hey, now over there, ya greasy hooligan! Don'cha be disturbin' the peace on my time!"

The Sewer King crapped his diaper and waddled off, sobbing. "No, leave me alone! I never am responsible for my own actions! It's her fault! She was a bitch to me for rejecting my advances! I am a gentleman! It's society's fault! It's the troll's fault!"

He smacked into someone else on the street and fell down, his load squashing in a way that made him smile stupidly and creepily. He looked up to see a woman dressed like a jester, brandishing a large hammer, and a purple clad clown behind her, shooting at someone and laughing like maniac.

"Hey, watch it, pal! We got the right of way on this sidewalk," said Harley Quinn.

Joker skidded to a stop and grimaced at the pile of nasty sitting on the sidewalk in front of them, blocking the path. "What's the hold up, Harley? Toss the bum some nickels and let's go already!" He made an urgent motion with his hands.

"I'm the Sewer King, the greatest villain of all Gotham!" said the greasy haired man in the dirty diaper. "It says so right on this award my mommy gave me!"

He thrust the dollar store blue ribbon at them. It said "WENDELL IS THE SPECIALIST OF ALL VILLAINS IN GOTHAM CITY! BECAUSE MOMMERS SAYS SO!" and had a kitty cat smiley face on it.

"Uh...Mistah J, I think this guy has a problem." She leaned over and whispered too loudly into Joker's ear, "A SERIOUS problem. Like seriously MENTAL!"

"Now, now, Harley, we all have bad days." Joker walked around the side of the Sewer King casually, twirling his gun. "This guy's about to have a really bad one." He pointed the gun at the disgusting weirdo, and began to do his trademark psychotic laugh.

Batman and Robin came swinging down from the buildings above.

"Your day is over, Joker," Robin quipped before kicking Joker to the ground. "It's night time for you now, ha ha, get it? Because I knocked you out. Instead of day, it's night, because you're unconscious, and you're gonna lose a bunch of hours so by the time you wake up it'll be dark, and..."

Batman kicked the hammer out of Harley's hands. She went sprawling onto her maybe sometimes but hopefully not always lover slash abuser. "Shut the fuck up, Robin."

Robin saluted obediently. "Sure thing, Boss."

Harley got up and rubbed her aching face meats. "Aw, please. Don't make this situation any dumber than it has to be."

She froze upon realizing the Sewer King was staring at her like a starving dog with a piece of meat. "Uncomfortable!" she squeaked nervously.

"It's you! You're my One True Love!" he exclaimed. He grabbed her hands and she squealed but could not remove them due to the steel grip of the violent and desperate man-child. "MAI WAIFU!"

Harley screamed. "MISTAH J! HALP! HE'S CRUSHING MY DELICATE FINGER BONES! I NEED THOSE TO DO NAUGHTY THINGS!"

But Joker had gotten terribly frightened by the scene and jumped into Batman's secure, comfortingly muscular arms. "DO something, Batsy! That thing is an abomination!" He buried his face in Batman's shoulder, unable to bare looking at the evil thing. "Save my poor Harley from a fate worse than death!"

"Ew, what is that thing?" Robin cautiously inched toward it and poked it with his staff. He made another face of disgust. He poked it again for good measure.

The Sewer King wheezed and hissed at him, wacking the staff with his misshapen hoof. His blubber sloshed.

"It's bad writing," Batman said, and turned and dropped Joker to the ground before walking over to a dumpster and picking it up. He brought it over, used his foot to pry Harley out of the Sewage Creep's grasp, and placed the dumpster on top of the fiend securely. He dusted off his hands while the rest of the onlookers cheered. "Fixed."

The Sewer King sobbed and shrieked from beneath the dumpster.

Harley leaped into Joker's welcoming arms, giving his chalk white face kisses of gratitude. "Puddin'! Your quicking thinking saved me!"

"But of course, baby!" Joker said. "You know I'd never let anything bad happen to you," and he turned and whispered, "that I didn't do myself."

Batman glared at the villains.

"All in a day's work," Robin said, winking at the camera. "Let's go get ice cream!"

Joker and Harley shouted "YAY!" and ran to the Batmobile with Robin.

Batman glared again. "When will this nightmare end?" he muttered.

He began walking to the car, withdrawing his infamous Bat Credit Card.

THE END


End file.
